Angel Slayer
by 100-series
Summary: A young woman who claims to be the lost princess of Dipan seeks a legendary sword with the power to strike through the heart of a god.
1. Seraphic Gate

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 1: Seraphic Gate**

Ewald was not entirely certain what surprised him more: that the Seraphic Gate really existed, or that Wynnia was able to find it. Actually, her being able to _enter_ it was the most unlikely thing, once he thought about it. A crass, blasphemous, woman such as herself should have been obliterated by Odin or one of his servants upon her first step into the holy place.

"But don't you understand, Lezard?" she shouted at him. "This place exists beyond the gods! It's a doorway between the past, the future, and endless realms!"

"Please stop calling me that," he groaned, pushing his glasses back to a comfortable spot on the bridge of his nose. "If you must insist that I refer to you as Alicia then I will, but I have a name, and it isn't Lezard."

"But it _is_," she replied angrily. "It _was_, anyway." She put her hands on her hips and raised her chin high. "Very well. If you do not like that name, then I shall simply refer to you as Court Mage."

Ewald rolled his shoulders and sighed in defeat as Wynnia's crew bustled all about, roping their ship to the silver deck which stood out of the grey waters. The horizon itself was out of sight. Where were they? How she had ever gotten so many people to believe that she was _really_ the princess of Dipan was an even bigger mystery. He figured that she did look an awful lot like the painting in the castle, especially after she had cut her hair and bought similar clothes. But that was just an artist's representation of an 18-year-old girl who had been presumed dead, and showed up out of nowhere for a single day, only to disappear again. Who knew if it was even accurate? Wynnia was in her late twenties and still somehow fit the part.

She did know a lot, as well, he had to admit. That was really what sold her story. She could tell each person who had been close to the royal family every intimate detail of their relationship as if she had actually been there. She knew the history of Dipan, the secrets of its royal class, and even more mystical pieces of knowledge that by all means a simple girl from Coriander really shouldn't--such as the location of the Seraphic Gate. Ewald did not want to give into this fanciful notion that she was channeling memories from her reincarnated soul's drama-filled past life, but there was no other way to explain how she could know these things. The Seraphic Gate loomed before him as a gigantic piece of evidence towards that.

This place was beautiful but hauntingly detached from the rest of the world. As the others went about preparing for battle, Ewald examined the crystalline fixtures of light. They were powered by a form of magic that had once been commanded by the mages of Dipan. He was fascinated by the idea of it--a power source that would never fade. Lighting was only the beginning of the breakthroughs such energy would bring! If only the gods would have let Dipan prosper in peace... But after all, that was why Wynnia was on this ridiculous hunt for this most likely non-existent sword, Angel Slayer--a blade with the power to strike through the heart of a God.

"And why am_ I_here?" he mumbled to himself as he began to wonder what sort of stone the fantastic structure of the gate could have been built from. Its silvery grey columns and walls curved up into enormous open-air passages, its thousands of panels free in constant motion. Runes wrought of pure light hung in the air, resonating every few seconds, as if the entire thing was alive and breathing.

"Time to go!" Wynnia demanded, raising her sword into the air. A group of roughly twenty men and women armed to the teeth raised their own weapons and began to holler to announce their comradery. Ewald watched this uncouth show of bravado and groaned. How did Wynnia ever convince so many to fight for her? Most of them seemed convinced that they were Einherjar, or reincarnations of other historical figures. The red-haired woman in the black armor thought she was Queen Celes, and the blonde one--who appeared to be no older than seventeen--was convinced that she was Queen Phyress! Wynnia had gone around collecting these psychotic people for the last few years until they had formed a small army of crazies. How many of them were completely convinced that their stories were true? How many were going to die for it?

"Court mage!" their flaxen-haired leader shouted.

Ewald looked up in chagrin. "Yes, Lady _Alicia_?"

"We will be relying on your command of the lost magics, so be prepared to cast them!"

"In other words, you are relying on my skills to actually defeat this creature," he answered with a sigh. "Whatever creature guards a relic capable of defeating a god must surely be as powerful as a god... otherwise, I strongly doubt that the gods would simply leave him be..."

"I have faith in your magic, Lezard!" she said cheerfully. "And I believe in all of my Einherjar!"

"Einherjar," Ewald groaned, looking back at the others. The creepy mage who always kept the upper half of his face hidden by his big, ridiculous, pointy hat said nothing, as usual, but nodded. The heavy blade who fancied himself the royal family of Dipan's personal protector, Guilm, gave him a glare that he would question their identity.

Wynnia's smile changed into a familiar smirk that let him know that she was about to win the argument. "It takes you too long to cast the lost magics on your own. You need us to protect you while you pull it off. If you want to study the Seraphic Gate, I suppose you're just going to have to go where we want to go."

"Let's just get this over with," he sighed. "And it would be great if you didn't get me killed."

Wynnia huffed a hearty laugh in triumph. "Onward, my Einherjar!" she demanded, chopping her sword through the air excitedly over her head. The brigade began to move out.

- - -

The journey to the bottom of the Seraphic Gate was a long and arduous one. Ewald stopped at several points and begged Wynnia to allow him to rest. She granted his request grudgingly, and he knew that it was only because he needed to be in peak condition in order to command the lost magics. She should be so cruel, and yet something about her confident spirit drove him onwards. He simply could not refuse her when she smiled that way.

He found himself trailing close behind the two warriors who fancied themselves Phyress and Celes.

"So, I thought that you were happy in your retirement," the blonde, supposedly Phyress, said. "What made you decide to rejoin the group?"

"Perhaps I'm just fascinated by this new Alicia," the armored, sword-toting woman replied.

The archer girl replied with a giggle. "I know, isn't this spunky rebel Alicia just the cutest?"

"I'm concerned about Silmeria," Celes replied. "She isn't within Alicia, and I believe that if she were transferred, she would have come to intervene in this tirade of hers."

"You don't think this is the most fun we've had in a long while?" Phyress answered in disbelief. "Oh, don't be such a killjoy!"

"It is dangerous," Celes answered. "Of course, none of us should worry about losing our lives... I thought that I would enjoy having a normal life as a freed soul, finally released from the shackles of a warrior's fate... but if we can't age, can't grow old... then what's the point? The only true way to start life anew is through death. I am merely concerned for the girl who carries Alicia's soul."

"Uhk," Phyress grumbled. "Why are you always so morbid?" She shrugged her shoulders in an aloof gesture and sighed. "Well, this Alicia is certainly fun, but the old, demure Alicia had a certain charm as well. They are hardly the same person."

"They are _not_ the same person," Celes answered. "This girl's name is Wynnia."

Ewald forgot that he wasn't a part of the conversation and interjected here. "Finally, someone comes to their senses!" he exclaimed in a sigh of relief. "Won't you please tell Wynnia that?"

"Shut up, Lezard," Celes snapped, sneering at him. "I don't know why we let _you_ hang around after all that you've done."

"My name is Ewald!" he retorted, clenching his fist in frustration. "Ewald Valor! If everyone insists that this is not my name, then I shall be forced to make you learn it! You shall be made to respect my name!"

"Sure thing,_Lezard_," Phyress snorted hysterically. She and the other woman turned away from him and continued to walk ahead, ignoring Ewald completely.

- - -

Wynnia led their group through several small battles with her sword held high, making haughty challenges as they went along. Ewald found himself impressed with how well she fought, and even more blinded by the incredible skill of their strange companions.

"Whirling ripper!" shouted one named Fraudir. Ewald paused to look and found himself staring at both her agility and her mode of dress. She sort of... lacked pants. Her sword tore through the enemies in a green gust of blades formed from the wind itself.

Wynnia, Celes, and Phyress took turns striking a foe as it hung helplessly in the air. Segments of its body flew off in sparkling bursts of light. Blood and magical crystals sprayed everywhere, staining his childhood-friend-turned-princess with crimson splotches as well as ethereal glitter. She looked ravenous, like a beast, and yet somehow beautiful.

She led them into a chamber that was empty of monsters. The air was stagnant there, and it was strangely quiet. Wynnia ran into the circle heedless of the obvious danger. "Come forth, master of this realm!" she shouted. "I have come to challenge you!"

_Ignorant mortals! _A voice shouted from an indiscernible distance. Wynnia's lips pursed in determination as a lithe figure with white wings and long golden hair appeared before them.

"You must be Iseria queen!" she greeted the celestial being. "Hand over the Angel Slayer, or I will beat it from you!"

"I am Gabriel Celeste," the angelic figure replied. Ewald noticed Wynnia start when she heard the masculine voice spill out.

"Y-you're a man?" she stuttered, then steadied herself. "No matter! Stand aside and let us face Iseria Queen, or you'll be annihilated!"

The feminine but reportedly male angel arched a brow and smirked playfully. "Don't you have worlds to save, gods to defy, and better things to do than waste your time challenging me? You won't succeed! Escape while you still have your life!"

Ewald make a high-pitched noise in alarm as Wynnia refused further communication and dove at him with her sword. "Wynnia, that thing is an immortal!" he shouted as her sword reflected off the shield of light that revolved around its body.

"Stop standing there and cast your magic!" Phyress scolded him as she strung an arrow. When her shot flew from her bow, it erupted into several points of light that swirled about, precisely targeting the enemy. They impacted against the enemy. Then Celes went sliding across the floor, swinging her sword wide. It struck him in an explosion of violet light. His guard broke immediately, leaving him completely prone to Wynnia's attacks.

"In my hand, the creator's sword which calls eternal sleep," Ewald began to chant over the sounds of the ladies beating the master of the first level of the gate to bits. Guilm and Mithra joined in, along with Fraudir and a few more who were just as talented. Phyress and her fellow archer Sha-kon shot well-timed bursts of power from their bows to keep him from recovering.

"Honor our pact and hear my command!" he went on, but before he finished the encantation, he heard the defeated cry of their enemy.

Wynnia panted for breath, holding her sword still raised. "Dammit, Lezard!" she barked at him in her little voice. It wasn't quite so small and sweet when she was angry. "You didn't even finish before we defeated him!"

"What do you care then?" he retorted, brushing the sparkling dust from his dark robes.

Gabriel Celeste coughed and admitted his defeat. "Here is your treasure," he said. "This is your reward..."

"Finally!" Wynnia exclaimed. "The sword Angel Slayer!"

"No, I'm afraid that only Iseria Queen holds that prize," he laughed weakly. "Take this, the Wand of Apocalypse." With that, he disappeared, leaving behind only a magnificent staff of incredible power.

"A wand?" Wynnia complained. "But the much anticipated court mage didn't even do anything!"

"He's only the first master," Ewald replied. "Surely Iseria Queen will be more difficult."

"Yeah, okay," she replied, and handed him the wand. "Take that, and try to use it next time."

He took it into his hands. It's power was so immense that he could feel it racing through his body. "He _was_ powerful," he said to himself, glancing down at the glittering remains of their opponent. "Wynnia and our allies must possess some true power after all in order to defeat him so easily..."

- - -

Several enemies were felled, and finally the Seraphic Gate seemed to come to an end. Its glorious chambers had grown more and more fanciful and bizarre. Ewald wanted nothing more than to stay and study them, to bask in the light which seemed to shine through the mane gates and windows from other world. How he longed to explore them--to see what sort of powers ruled those universes!

Yet Wynnia paid no heed to the magnificence of the Seraphic Gate. She pressed on single-mindedly obsessed with obtaining her sword, the Angel Slayer. Why was she so obsessed with it? Sure, it contained the power to bend a god to one's will by show of force, but did she really think that she could lead a revolution with a single artifact such as that? The All Father who sat on the throne of Asgard--though Wynnia claimed that he was no longer Odin, as little sense as that made--still possessed Gungnir, to which even the fabled Angel Slayer would pale in comparison to. Why was she so determined? Was she really that obsessed with the prosperous future of Dipan, a foreign nation that had been crushed by the gods long before her birth?

It had to be something more than that. Wynnia was after something more--something related to this overblown delusion of hers and this Alicia person who she claimed to be.

They came to the last of the masters' circles, where another blonde-haired and angelic figure greeted them. She looked very much like Gabriel Celeste, but her power was obviously more extreme. Around her, the air sparked with crackles of energy, as if her power simply could not be contained.

"Brave warriors," she said to them. "I congratulate you. You are the first to reach this level of the gate. For this, I will reward you each with your own world--each of you shall have one reflection of the universe to rule under me."

"I rule under no one!" Wynnia replied, and pointed her sword directly at the mistress of all creation. "There is only room for queen of my stature in all the worlds!"

Ewald had learned quickly to begin his spell before the battle had even started, while Wynnia was taunting the enemy. "No mercy for the damned," he began. "No escape from catastrophe..."

"Who dares challenge me?" the Iseria Queen bellowed.

"I am Princess Alicia of Dipan, and I have come for the legendary sword, Angel Slayer!"

The woman pointed a long slender finger accusingly to Wynnia. "You are not the one known as Alicia," she said in a voice that shook the foundations of the very gate itself. "You claim to be the very saint who gave her life to preserve the valkyrie trinity and the sanctity of time itself? This is blasphemy!"

"I _am_ Alicia!" Wynnia shouted, enraged to a state of sheer fury. "I_am_ Alicia, and I'll prove it to you!"

"Meteor Swarm!" Ewald shouted. Bodies of star-bound stone appeared overhead, smashing into the circle where Iseria Queen floated, about to strike. The powerful spell shook the platform they stood on. The Einherjar knelt to hold their ground as their enemy was bombarded.

"What the Hel is this?" Phyress shouted over the eruption. "You'll kill all of us with a spell like that!"

"It is the power invested to me alone!" Ewald proclaimed above the sound of all of this. He was enthralled with the incredible materialization of his own strength into such raw power. "She is no goddess of the realms!" he cackled, enjoying himself far too much. "Look at me Alicia, see what power I have wrought!"

Wynnia paid little attention to this, and struck at the heart of the smoldering aftermath where Iseria Queen still stood undefeated. "Insolent mortals!" she shouted, and waved her heavy lance in an arc. It caught Wynnia right in the gut and tossed her all the way back to where Ewald and the others stood recovering their bearings after the blast. Then she began to chant a spell. "Powerful name!"

A rune formed underneath Wynnia's body just as Ewald knelt to help her. He watched in horror as jagged thorns jutted upward from the ground all around her body like sharp, horrible claws, and enclosed themselves over her, releasing painful barbs of energy that sparked with pitch black and crimson red. "Wynnia!" he shouted desperately.

When he reached her, she was unconscious and heavily wounded. "Damn, if only I had a healing spell within my arsenal," he grumbled to himself bitterly as he held her.

One of the mages traveling with them knelt beside him whilst his comrades began an open assault on the Iseria Queen. He was young and had a kind face. "Don't worry," he said softly. "She's pretty tough. She'll be fine." He closed his eyes and cast a spell. "Invoke feather," he said in a gentle tone. Light spread out from his fingers to Wynnia's body, healing her wounds. "It isn't much, but it should rejuvenate her."

Wynnia's thick eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes and looked up at Ewald, and then to the mage. "Thank you, Seluvia," she said. "Did I draw her attack?"

"What?" Ewald spouted as she pushed herself out of his arms and attempted to stand. "You mean to tell me that you did all of this on purpose?"

"Well, she's got this attack that will put even the strongest person under in one blow," Wynnia replied innocently. "If you're healed quickly enough, it isn't fatal. But, if it were to hit a lot of us at once, it would be devastating. So yeah, I did it on purpose."

"You ignorant fool!" Ewald shouted angrily. "You could have died! Is this ridiculous sword really worth your life? You aren't a goddess, Wynnia! You're a fool mortal just like the rest of the pathetic human race!"

"Don't call me by that old, common name!" she retorted as she lifted her sword once more. "Call me Alicia or nothing at all!"

He grimaced and clutched his fists. "I am growing tired of this..."

"Then you can stay behind!" she shouted. "Come, Seluvia!"

"Yes," the young mage replied. "Lady Alicia, I am at your side."

Ewald watched, grumbling incoherent curses under his breath as the two of them joined the fray.

- - -

The battle against Iseria Queen lasted a great deal longer than the struggle against her male counterpart. Ewald did not see them making any progress. They were not failing, but their opponent was not weakening, either.

Finally it came to a point where Iseria Queen held up her hand and called a halt to the battle herself. Wynnia humored her, and motioned for her Einherjar to pause. "Giving up?" she asked her.

"No," the celestial Iseria Queen replied. "However, this battle is futile. We can wage war until the end of time, and nothing will come of it. You have already convinced me that I was in error. You are, in fact, the reborn incarnation of Alicia, savior of the worlds. I will grant you the Angel Slayer to use as you wish."

"You will?" Wynnia replied excitedly. Her eyes sparkled in anticipation.

Iseria Queen lifted her beautiful hand, full of limitless power, above her head. In her fingers formed a pure white sword. It's blade sparkled like the sky on a bright morning when billions of snowflakes fill the air. She held it out to Wynnia, whose hands reached forward with eagerness. "But know this," she said, stopping just before the handle reached her fingers. "Just because you possess the same soul as that person does not make you her equal. It does not entitle you to the hearts that she has won, or the happiness that she has earned. With the power of this sword, I bestow you with the potential to ruin as well as to protect. Be wary, oh warrior... whoever you decide to be."

Wynnia grasped the ivory handle of the sacred blade and felt its pure, divine energy flow through her. Ewald watched, transfixed by the words of the Iseria Queen, as his dear friend clasped the deadly blade tenderly to her chest and rubbed the pommel with against her cheek affectionately. Was she right? Was Wynnia really Alicia person?

"Grant me one last request," Wynnia said to the mistress of the Seraphic Gate. "Let me ask you one question of absolute fate."

"I will allow this," the queen replied.

Wynnia lowered the sword to her side and met Iseria Queen's eyes with a cold and serious gaze. Ewald was grateful that she was not glaring at him with those eyes. A lesser being would have frozen over caught by it. "Was there any way," she began slowly, "at the sacrifice of Brahms, Silmeria, or any other path... is there any other world, any other reality or branch of causality, in which Rufus and I were able to remain together?"

Ewald was blindsided by this question. Who was this Rufus? Wynnia had never mentioned him, not even in all of her crazed ramblings about her former life and her destinty. What did she mean by "together?" Someone as childish and self-centered as Wynnia couldn't possibly be in _love_ could she?

"No," Iseria queen replied. "Your union was impossible from the moment that you met. Though you may have selfishly returned to the valkyrie Silmeria, leaving him to suffer alone, your demise was inevitable. The Lord of the Undead's body would have disintegrated under the immense power of the valkyries before you were able to defeat Lezard. Even without Lezard's intervention in the past, you would have been slain at the hands of Odin. For Alicia, there was never any chance for life. For Rufus, there was never any chance for rebirth."

Ewald watched as Wynnia raised the sword to her chest again and gripped its handle with such tension that if it was not such a legendary relic, he would have feared she would break it. "Thank you," she said in a dark, deep, tone of voice without lifting her face. Ewald was positively petrified. "One more thing..."

"What is it?"

"I suppose that you can look into the future?" Wynnia said, suddenly reverting to a wistful tone. "Can you tell me if there is a chance for us_now_?"

"That I cannot say," she replied. "The future is always in flux." Then she smiled slyly. "What you intend to do with that sword is unwritten. It shall be interesting to watch you. Will you conquer worlds? Purify lands?"

"Not really," Wynnia answered, and turned to leave. She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a cocky gesture. "I'm going to use it to strike through the heart of a god."

Ewald was overjoyed that they were finally leaving. He walked with Wynnia away from the chamber of Iseria Queen, staying close to her as the others followed behind. For all of the Seraphic Gate's amazing scenery and boundless potential, he suddenly felt shaken by it all. Lezard, the person who Wynnia insisted he really was... what had he done? She had never told him the fine details, but according to Iseria Queen's words, he had_killed _Alicia--the soul that was now Wynnia; and his dear friend Wynnia was trying to become Alicia again.

He thought he must be crazy for even considering that all of this was true, but after all that he had seen, how could it _not _be true? Suddenly he felt afraid of the power that lied within him, of that incredible natural talent which had always defined him. Perhaps Wynnia was content giving herself up to revert to the form of a legendary princess who had saved all of mankind, but Ewald wanted nothing of it. If Ewald had been such a monster in his former life, then he wanted to never remember any of it. He thought that if Wynnia called him Lezard one more time, he might snap.

So, he was more than eager to leave. He wanted to be out of there, but he did not like the way that Wynnia smirked when she said her parting line. He did not like it at all.


	2. Asgard

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 2: Asgard**

It was unusual for Freya to dream, but many unusual things were becoming common-place. Since the war with the undead had so abruptly ended, Freya found that she had very little to do. Goddesses weren't prone to boredom, but there was one issue about her inactivity that she did not enjoy. It gave her far too much time to think, and more importantly, to _feel_. Even if she was able to banish her thoughts and memories, her dreams always brought them back to her.

A young man with raven black hair raised a sword. "I will bring order to the world tree, and create a new race of gods!" he declared. Back then, his voice had been so different, so much younger--or perhaps that was merely her mind dubbing him with Rufus's voice. Not even a goddess was immune to the alteration of memory over time.

"And I will create a new world, and a new race of man to serve the gods!" he continued. A confident smile lit his face as he lowered his sword and raised his left hand, empty and spread open, instead. "Won't you come with me, Lady Freya?"

Freya had never seen a handshake or anything of the sort. Gods never sealed their agreements or even so much as expressed themselves with physical displays. "Why dost thou offer a goddess thy hand, foolish vessel?"

"You are a goddess with the pure blood of the Vanir," he explained, still holding his hand invitingly to her. "Though thy power currently exceeds mine by far, the potential of any god is limited. Thou art the final branch of mankind's evolution, unable to age, to reproduce, to grow; but I am both a vessel and a mortal. If I ascend to the peak of the tree Yggdrasil and aquire he knowledge of the gods, I shall gain the potential to surpass even your power. We can aquire Gungnir, crush the Jotun, and rule over Asgard for all of eternity."

Freya watched herself as her representation in the dream watched the young man warily. She remembered considering that what he was saying was theoretically sound, but it was all so far-fetched. She would have never gone with him except for the fact that she was a young goddess, frightened by her people's inability to summon enough power to fight the Jotun. What he was saying was exactly right... they had a certain limit to their power, and it wasn't enough to defeat the Jotun and save this world. Any chance to surpass that limit was worth taking, because regardless of how long the battles were extended, the Vanir were going to lose this war.

His expression softened slightly. Freya wondered when the last time she had seen such a look on Odin's face had been as she watched her younger self debate whether or not to join sides with him. "Lady Freya, I will attain the power to create at will, and my race shall be called the Aesir." He stopped and his smile brightened a bit in amusement. "What I am offering you in this hand is the place at my side. Help me to reach Yggdrasil, and together we can bring order and law to this rampant chaos."

Hesitantly, Freya's hand grew nearer to his. When they finally met, that was the first time that Freya had ever smiled.

- - -

Freya awoke unhappy, which was never a good thing for anyone in Asgard. Though her dream had been a pleasant one, all she could do upon consciousness is remember everything that had gone wrong since then.

There was a span of time in which Odin had grown restless in Asgard and descended to Midgard. What he did there was something she never questioned, but she just assumed that it had to do with satisfying the mortal half of him that he was so loathe to reveal. If he had simply opened himself to her rather than travel there, perhaps he wouldn't have aged. Even though he only left for short periods of time, over thousands of years, it built up. Once his hair began to grey, it became apparent that there was a serious problem.

Odin decided to solve this problem not by consulting Freya, but by giving a direct order to Heimdall to capture a young human man and have him confined to the Forest of Spirits where the abundant female elves would care for him until a child came of it. Whether there was love between Rufus's parents or not, Freya never knew, and neither did Rufus. Both were killed as soon as the child was born, and Rufus was similarly confined to the forest like a stock animal. At the age of twenty-four that cursed ring had been placed on his finger, giving Odin the ageless Midgard-bound body that he had always wanted at the small cost of a few lives and one half-elf's soul.

That was but one of the needlessly cruel decisions that Odin had made leading up to his demise. Freya had always turned her head. What the god of all gods did with a few mortal lives was no one's business but his own. She had absolutely no respect, let alone sympathy, for Rufus until she had been given all of this free time. Now she understood why Silmeria had fought against Odin. She now knew why Rufus was entirely in his rights to attempt to kill her beloved late lord.

All of this was understandable, but she hated it all the same. She hated it because she could have prevented it. If she had just kept Odin happy and fulfilled, then perhaps he would have remained that person who she had admired so long ago. He had been generous to mankind, creating a new world bound by order and law. Everything had gone wrong in such gradual developments, but she should have known at the first of it. His insistence that the three valkyries be separated from their sisters and sealed upon Midgard should have been an obvious sign that his heart had changed.

God weren't supposed to _have_ hearts, that was the trouble.

- - -

Sleep was more of a way to pass time than anything else, so Freya simply got up and began to pace--or float, rather--through the hallways. Lord Rufus also had trouble sleeping, and it was her new hobby to teach him feats of magic. As a half-elf he had boundless potential, but he was so woefully innocent and inexperienced that it nearly made her sick.

She warped into her room, passing through a ripple in space as easily as if it was a sheet of water. That was one spell that her new lord wasn't quite adept with yet. His last attempt found him falling from midair into the bathing spring, which had alarmed quite a few female Einherjar.

Without making a sound, she appeared in his bedroom, hoping not to wake him if he was sleeping after all. She looked around and reminded herself why she hated to come here. It was a pigsty--books and papers scattered everywhere, along with plates caked with the remains of meals he had eaten alone. If he lacked the ability to straighten up with magic, then all he need do was call a servant. Was he really that lazy?

Her eyes traveled to the bed where she saw him lying on his side, face turned towards where she stood. His eyes were pressed shut a bit too firmly for sleep, unless he had been caught in a nightmare. She approached, floating soundlessly on the air, and examined his face more closely. Around the base of his green eyelashes was a hint of moisture.

At first she thought that he might be sick, but a god with an illness? That was preposterous. Perhaps someone had afflicted him with a hex, since he was too inexperienced with magic to prevent such things, even with the power of the worlds at his fingertips. It took her a moment to remember that this is what happened when mortals grieved. She had experienced grief at only one point in her life, and when Odin was captured, there had not been enough time to cry. She had taken her frustrations out elsewhere... on Silmeria's host, to be exact.

She sat down beside him on the bed. Her weightless form failed to even ruffle the blankets at all, let alone disturb Rufus's troubled sleep. His life was already longer than that of most human beings, but to the residents of Asgard he was still only a small child; and he certainly appeared to look like one when he was like this. She sighed in dismay and placed her hand gently over his head, threading her fingers through his soft green hair.

The slow breaths that signified that he was asleep stopped altogether as his body tensed up. He remained still, and for a moment Freya thought that maybe, just maybe, he would accept her touch for once. But no, that was too much to ask for. Just as the thought entered her mind, Rufus shot up clumsily and backed all the way to the farthest corner of his large mattress, putting as much distance between himself and Freya as he could before he was even fully awake.

"H-Hel, could you knock?" he spouted while rubbing at the place where she had touched him as if it itched.

Freya frowned deeply at this greeting. "Tears are unbefitting of a god, Lord Rufus."

"Tch," Rufus spat, crossing his arms defensively over his chest and looking away from her, embarrassed. "I wasn't crying or anything."

"They aren't befitting of _you_, my lord," she corrected herself. "But enough. I came to give you a lesson in the lost arts."

"Magic tricks?" Rufus replied. Freya's eyebrow ticked in annoyance at his dismissal of one of the gods' divine tools. "At this time of night?"

"You are awake, are you not?"

"I am _now_," he griped.

Freya smiled slyly, still furrowing her brows in frustration. The best way to deal with Rufus was to quickly move on without letting him argue. His arguments were never good, and yet he could drag them on forever. "Did you know that there is an incantation that I could place upon you at any moment that could make you speak only the truth?"

"No way," Rufus grumbled. "You're bluffing. It can't be that easy to--"

Freya waved her hand in front of Rufus's face, silencing him, and spoke a few long-forgotten words of an ancient language. "Now tell me why you were crying," she said.

"I wasn't..." Rufus trailed off as the spell set in. His posture relaxed and his eyes became glossy and distant as he began to ramble. "I thought I'd be able to get on if I could just make her happy and do what she wanted, but I'm still miserable because she's the only person who I've ever been able to talk to or laugh with. She's not just the only woman I'll ever love, but my only friend too, and I'm so alone here. I don't think that I can take much more of this, I'm losing my mind. I don't know how I ever thought I could do this. I wish that I had died, too..."

Then his eyes widened in both shock and embarrassment as he realized what she as making him say, and he wiped at his eye with the sleeve of his white shirt. "Okay, so I was getting a little upset, am I not allowed?" he grumbled. "I hide it well enough from all of you gods, don't I? So what does it matter?"

Freya moved on without questioning him. "You need to learn to detect and block such magic from affecting you," she said. "Your power is limitless, but if you don't learn how to use it, then what good is it?"

"Okay, Freya," Rufus sighed, giving in. "I don't like people fishing around in my brain anymore than you do, so I'll study this incantation or whatever."

Freya grimaced at that analogy. "If your brain was a fishing hole, I dare say fishermen would starve..."

"Gee, thanks, Freya," Rufus grumbled. "You sure know how to cheer a guy up."

"My Lord," Freya said, looking at him now with just a touch of sympathy. "Perhaps you should consider summoning a valkyrie?"

"What for...?" he replied, not following. "Do we need Einherjar?"

"No, not necessarily," she began. "Well... it is never a _bad_ thing to have more Einherjar... but I was considering that perhaps it might make things easier on you if you had... you know, a friend about. You could awaken Silmeria and make her your advisor." She placed her hand against his shoulder and gave him a motherly pat. "Would that not make you happy, my lord?"

She studied his face carefully as Rufus's lips curled up into an amused half-smile. "Don't worry about me so much," he said, sliding away from her touch. "I'm fine. You all don't have to treat me like the baby of Asgard."

"And you needn't hide your sorrow from me," Freya replied, standing up sharply. "I know that you find me annoying, and the feeling is _entirely_ mutual, but I don't _hate_ you for opposing Odin, and I believe that you have some true potential to rule this world, just the same as he did when he was young."

"Freya," Rufus replied, stunned into near-speechlessness. "Where is this coming from? Why did you come here so late at night?"

Freya turned her back to him before answering. "I do not wish to see you with your spirit lost and your heart consumed by lust for power like Odin's was. If you have mortal desires then please, allow me to tend to them and do not force yourself to suffer alone. Doing so will only lead you on that same path to ruin."

Freya suddenly felt vulnerable, though the words made her no less powerful, nor did they subtract from the control that she held over the situation. She did not understand why simple words had the power to make her feel weak. Why in the nine worlds would she care what he thought about that?

She heard a snort. Rufus tried to hold back his laughter, but he finally erupted in a fit of chuckles, unable to hold it in. "Mortal desires?" he laughed. "Do you even know what _mortal desires_ are? Aha ha!" He was practically rolling on the mattress gasping for breath.

Her eye ticked again. She took in a deep breath because what she was about to say was going to take a lot of air to push through her lungs at the proper volume. "How dare you mock me you insolent mortal scum?!" she shouted, spinning around to face him. "I should have never thought that you would appreciate the lengths I must push myself to summon up the slightest bit of sympathy for such a pathetic excuse for a lord, why I never--!"

She stopped as she felt something tug at her hand. Rufus now sat at the edge of his bed closest to her, and his arm was outstretched, hand grasping hers. It was his left, the one on which he constantly wore the Ring of Mylinn, a trinket which lost all of its purpose in Asgard save for sentimental value.

"Thanks," he said. "I know it's not exactly for the reasons you _intended_, but that really made my day." He dropped her hand and placed both of his on his knees before standing up. "You don't have to try and satisfy the mortal part that's left over in me. That's something I have to deal with on my own, and I plan to deal with it. I'm not going to turn into Odin. But if you want to help, well... could you just try to be friends with me, Freya? You know that I don't hate you either for what the gods did to me in my mortal life, or even for hurting Alicia. If you could just stop acting like you're a bonded servant and be my friend, that would be great."

"I-I am sorry," she replied, startled by the frankness of his response. She touched her hand when he grasped it, and then shook it out as if he'd gotten it dirty. "The various levels of human relationships are confusing to me."

"Well, I'll teach you about it," he chuckled. "And you can teach me that mind game! We'll make a night of it!"

"It isn't a _game_!" she shouted. "It is a sacred art known only to the gods!"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied, waving his hand in an aloof gesture as he headed towards his door. Freya floated after him, arms and legs crossed in a huff. "Scared art this, divine power that, blah blah blah--_ouch!_" he cried as Freya's foot impacted him directly in the center of his back, causing him to stumble forward several steps. "Okay, friendship lesson number one: no kicking your buddies!"

"I reserve my kicking privileges," she demanded.

He laughed. They spent the night wandering the halls getting onto each other's last nerve, not dreaming.

- - -

"Court Mage!" Wynnia's voice rang out.

Ewald looked at the impenetrable stone wall that laid before them and wondered how in the Hel had he ever gotten roped into this after the whole Seraphic Gate fiasco. _Don't you want to see elves? _she has sweetly pestered him. _Don't you want to see Bifrost? Isn't it in your blood to study such magnificent things? _It was, and that's where she had gotten him.

"Yes, my lady?" he droned obediently. This place was hot and humid. His robes clung heavily to his body and he wanted to be gone from here as soon as possible.

"How many people can you teleport with that spell of yours?" she asked.

"It depends on the situation," he replied. "It can all change depending on the distance, the spiritual concentration of the area, the substance of obstacles between the two places--"

"The time of day, the weather outside, leap year, I don't care!" she retorted, impatient with his explanation. "Just get me past this damned wall!"

Ewald sighed heavily in frustration and adjusted his glasses on the ridge of his nose. "The gate of Bifrost is not simply a wall," he tried to explain. "It is a barrier, a field..."

"So?" she spouted, placing her hands on her hips.

"I suppose that at most I could transport myself and one other to the other side of it," he said. "But without your mentally unstable followers--excuse me, I meant your _Einherjar_... do you really think that we stand any chance against a god, let alone an entire world of them? Even with Angel Slayer, Asgard's residents will crush us!"

"Why didn't you tell me that sooner?" she barked. "My Einherjar can pass through that wall with absolutely no problem! You and I are the only ones who need to get past it in any case, and you've been over there wasting my time going on and on about it!"

"There isn't any way," Ewald argued back. "Only elves, gods, and those possessing spectral bodies such as the undead can pass through this barrier!"

Phyress stepped up to the wall and placed her hand against it. "Hey hey, lookie here, Lezard!" she teased Ewald as her fingers passed through it, causing the surface to ripple like water. "Now you see me, now you don't!" She leapt straight through it, disappearing behind the magical barrier.

Ewald was left staring with his mouth gaping wide in amazement. "That's impossible!" he exclaimed, as Phyress poked her head back through to grin triumphantly at them. He placed his hand against the wall himself, and it barred him from entering. To him, it remained a solid stone. "You must be," he gasped. "You all must actually be..."

"Do you believe now?" Wynnia huffed in annoyance. "Come, this wall does not amuse me!" to illustrate, she stepped up to it and beat her fist upon it.

"Wynnia!" Ewald exclaimed, as she struck it so hard that it broke the skin on her hand.

"Stupid wall!" Wynnia shouted. "If not for this damned thing, I wouldn't have--!" Then she calmed herself, clutching her hand to her chest tenderly. "No, no..." she sighed. "Calm down, Alicia. Iseria Queen said that there was no way, and so there was no way..."

Ewald arched an eyebrow as she spoke to herself using that other name. He began to suspect perhaps that she wasn't delusional after all--maybe she was full-blown schizophrenic. "Please, Wynnia," he sighed. "Whoever you are looking for... he can't be worth all of this!"

"Hey, don't say that!" Wynnia retorted, pointing her finger at Ewald. "We were meant to be together! Our love is epic and true! Just teleport me past this wall. You don't have to come any further if you don't want to--_but_, I thought that surely you would want to see Asgard!"

"I do," he groaned. "Fine, we'll go..."

Ewald prepared to cast his spell. It would be tricky to conjure the power to bypass the barrier, but the challenge itself was enticing. Under normal circumstances, he would agree to her plan just for the chance to test his abilities against a situation of this nature. However, he had the sinking feeling that Wynnia's crusade was going to end in them all getting killed eventually. She simply wouldn't stop pushing farther until something stopped her.

He had no idea who this Rufus fellow was, but he was already very glad that he wasn't him.


	3. Be Mine

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 3: Be Mine**

Rufus's footsteps rang out through an empty passage as he sauntered through the hall of the chosen warriors. Freya floated smoothly on the air at his side, making no sound at all.

"So, ya see," Rufus said, following a segment of his lesson. He turned around and took a few steps backwards facing Freya while he walked, waving his arms outwardly as he explained, "you have your friends, and then you have the people you love."

"But do you not love your friends as well?" Freya replied, annoyed with the entire situation. "What you are saying makes absolutely no sense."

"You do, but--you don't--" Rufus started to sputter. He began to realize the extent of his inexperience in the matter. Before meeting Alicia and the others, he had known neither friendship or love of any kind. "Listen, okay? It's like how humans have marriage, you know? You can only be married to one person at a time--"

"What about those kings with many wives?" Freya interjected.

"That's a rare exception!" Rufus grumbled. "Just listen, the point is--"

Freya sighed heavily, interrupting him. "I do not believe that you know what you are talking about."

"All right!" Rufus said loudly. "There's _typically_ one person who you love in a special kind of way, and there are other people in your life--such as your children--and sometimes you love them even more than your spouse, but not in the same way. Do you understand that?" As he explained that, he found himself honestly surprised by how bitter he still felt. Yes, that was exactly how Alicia and Silmeria had been. Even if Alicia had loved him, Silmeria was just... _more_. If Silmeria was sleeping and Alicia had no memory of her, then he had not fulfilled his oath to create the world that she hoped for. What was he doing here?

Freya noticed the pause he took and shrugged her shoulders. "This all boils down to who you would and not mate with," she sighed. "Typical human social taboos put in place strictly to protect the natural order. They mean nothing to the gods!"

"Okay, so maybe the whole love thing is ridiculously ideal, but... I know it exists, I think I felt it before."

"But mortals are such frail creatures," she scoffed. "What happens when one partner of this relationship you speak of inevitably dies?"

Rufus stopped and his arms fell to his sides. "Well," he said in a tone that was no longer playful, "eventually most people learn to move on... but even if you somehow manage that, there's always a place in your heart that is going to feel empty. It's kind of like losing an arm or a leg. You learn to live with it, but it's never quite the same."

"I don't see the point then," Freya responded, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Honestly, you mortals are nothing but contradiction. It's as if you live purely to suffer."

"You have a point," Rufus said, chuckling in a gruff and bitter tone. "As your teacher I should tell you that without suffering there's no way that joy could exist; but as someone who has experienced this personally, well... maybe I'd be better off just being numb like you gods."

"We aren't numb," Freya retorted. "Our lives are so long that we don't bother deluding ourselves with notions of everlasting affection."

Rufus chuckled. "We'll have to see see who's the better for it in the end," he said. "That's one reason to look forward to Ragnarok."

Freya opened her mouth to say something more, but as she did, they were interrupted by more footfalls in the corridor. They turned to the entrance and saw a handful of Aesir guards running towards them.

"Lady Freya!" one of the men shouted in excitement, disregarding their king altogether. They still had yet to grow accustomed to addressing Rufus as Lord, and so they typically spoke to Freya instead of to him. Rufus found that this was a good way to keep them from making him do any work, so he never complained.

"What is it?" Freya asked. "What is wrong?"

"There are intruders crossing the bridge Bifrost!" the guard explained frantically.

Rufus remained silent and allowed Freya to respond to this. He had never dealt with an intrusion before. "Is it the Vanir?" she asked, desperate for more information. "Or is it the Jotun?"

"Neither, my lady!" he replied. "It's a group of Einherjar led by a mortal man and woman!"

"Mortals?" Freya hissed. "How could mortals pass through the gates of Bifrost?"

"That's one I'd like to see," Rufus muttered under his breath, trying not to interrupt. He found it amusing, remembering how he'd gone through Hel to bring Alicia through the gate. Absently, he looked down at the ring on his hand.

"I do not know, milady," the guard answered. "Heimdall was wounded. We were forced to retreat."

"Retreat?" Freya spat in broiling anger. "How could a god be wounded? How could a god be forced to retreat?"

"Forgive me!" he begged, kneeling. "The woman possessed a sword of incredible power. When it hit Heimdall, it pierced him as if his body were flesh and blood!"

Rufus looked to Freya. "What is it?" he asked. "Does such a weapon really exist?"

"Yes," Freya replied, pondering this intensely. "A weapon like that was entrusted to the goddess of the Seraphic Gate for safe keeping. It is impossible that Iseria Queen could have been defeated... so how?"

"We can figure out how later," Rufus said. "Right now we have to find out who these guys are and what they're after. I don't want you gods dying--not _permanently_ at the very least." He nearly laughed again as he remembered that he and Alicia had incapacitated Heimdall once before. "Come on. Let's go out and greet them."

"No!" Freya objected, swirling around to face Rufus again. "It is too dangerous my lord, you must remain here."

"What?" Rufus griped. "Please! I think I can handle myself against a couple of humans and a few Einherjar, magic sword or not!"

"You are the pillar of Asgard," Freya said calmly but forcefully. "If you were even to sustain minor injury, the effects on Asgard would be dramatic!"

"But Freya," Rufus answered, wishing he had better skills of negotiation, "if they are Einherjar, then the odds are that I know them. They'll listen to me, and I bet they'll stop what they are doing once they see that I'm in charge now instead of Odin. We won't even have to risk fighting. Besides, if it really is a powerful relic, then you'll need me to use Gungnir to counter it."

Freya released a tense breath in annoyance. "But, Rufus--"

"Hey, no buts!" he interjected. "Asgard would crumble if anything happened to you, too--just maybe not in the immediate literal sense. So why is it that you can go and I can't, huh?"

"I don't have time for your ridiculous arguments!" Freya shouted. "Stay!"

"Hey, don't command me like I'm a dog!" he retorted, but she was already gone. She flickered out of the room in that same old wisp of light as she always did. He looked around to the Aesir guards and they immediately went about their business, avoiding his glance, trying to pretend as if they weren't just witness to the tongue-lashing Freya had given him. "Gee, thanks guys," he said, but no one replied to his sarcasm.

- - -

The lands of Asgard were so bright that Ewald found himself shielding his eyes with his gloved hand. The clouds overhead were a brilliant gold, and the flowers that seemed to stretch on for eternity were pure white and took on a sunset luster from the sky above them. Despite all of this, it was pleasantly cool. Ewald was relieved by the change in temperature, but far more by the fact that they were finally here.

The caverns past the gate had been horrible--a dark, twisted maze full of pitfalls and traps. Even a stray step into one of the pools of poisoned water was enough to incapacitate him with serious nausea. Thankfully Wynnia and a few of the Einherjar knew the spell to cure such afflictions. When they reached the magical spring at the exit of the cave, he had felt such relief! Until, that is, Wynnia insisted that they had no time to stop and enjoy it--let alone study its secrets to the extent of his desires.

Then there was the bridge of Bifrost. Now, when Ewald pictured a bridge, he imagined something that had a structure of sorts connecting two parts of land. What Bifrost was, was not that. It was little more than a sparkle of light in the sky, completely invisible except for when the sun hit it just so. There was no land in sight; it just kept going on and on into the horizon, high up above the landscape. It also just so happened that Ewald had a terrible phobia of heights, and that Wynnia was very impatient. She grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him across as she ran across it in complete faith, without even looking to see if that all-important glitter was still there beneath their feet.

Then they had gotten into a fight on the bridge with the bridge's guardian. Ewald remembered very little of that, since he had been frozen in fear of the impossible distance between himself and the ground. Wynnia and her Einherjar were more than capable of sending them running, but Ewald doubted that the gods would just give up at that.

So after a trek through the seemingly hallucinogen-induced surroundings of the latter segments of Bifrost--swirling rainbow-colored light that was neither ground nor sky--they were finally in Asgard, home of the gods.

Ewald sighed contentedly as he watched Wynnia spread her arms and spin around, basking in the glow of the ethereal glow of the sky like a child. She looked almost innocent. "So what is the plan, fearless leader?" he asked her, affording a smile.

"Oh, let's just take a rest!" she said, coming to a halt.

Ewald raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Why do you want to rest now, when only an hour or so ago, you refused to rest at the spring?"

"Oh, no reason," she replied, but the mischievous smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Ewald did not buy her ploy at all, but he was eager to rest. He sat down in a soft patch of grass as Wynnia continued to play about in the flowers. There was one very close to where he planted his hand, and with great curiosity, he plucked it at the stem and held it up. Its petals where white, but their sheen glittered with every color of a sunset. He turned it about in his hand, watching its sparkle. He attempted to open it up and examine the heart of it, but at the slightest touch, it's petals fell away and were caught in the gentle breeze.

"Looks like I destroyed it," he laughed bitterly, tossing the remains of the flower over his shoulder.

He sat silently for a few minutes, blissfully ignoring the fact that they were all in extreme danger just by daring to trespass into the realm of the gods. The Einherjar around him were equally untroubled, each taking a moment to rest in their own way.

Just when Ewald was contemplating taking a nap, there came a strange noise. It was a shrill, high-pitched sound like something he had only heard in his experiments with tamable forms of energy. He looked up to see Wynnia readying her sword to fight as a spot in the air above them became distorted. A woman appeared, stepping through the fabric of space. She hovered in the air, a goddess with blonde hair wearing scant but regal green attire.

"How is it that you mortals have transgressed into Asgard?" she demanded in a great booming voice.

Wynnia held her ground and smirked. "Simple transportation magic!" she replied. "It's easy, when your ally is a master of the lost arts!"

"Such magic is reserved only for the use of the gods," the goddess retorted in disgust. "Who could have--" she lowered herself to the ground as her eyes fell on Ewald. "_You_!" she hissed, eyes lighting up in recognition. "You're both... how could this have happened?"

"That's right!" Wynnia shouted, shaking the sword named Angel Slayer at the goddess tauntingly. "I am Princess Alicia, defier of the gods--and this is Lezard Valeth, heretical master of the lost arts!"

"N-no, I'm not!" Ewald tried to interject, but neither of the women was paying too much attention to him.

"You mortals fly too close to the sun," Freya sneered. "You should have been content with the lives that were granted to you!"

Ewald watched as she flickered out of sight again. A flurry of the Einherjar's arrows passed through the space where she had been, just missing her, as she reappeared close to his left. She moved to fast for him to react, but Wynnia was fast. She grabbed him by the arm and threw him to safety with a painful amount of force while she raised her sword to deflect an attack. Freya used no weapon but her own body, and that was powerful enough. Even with the sword she held, Freya's flying kick sent Wynnia sprawling back. The Einherjar swordsmen gathered and made feeble attempts to swipe at Freya, but none were fruitful.

Ewald tried to help by steadying his friend and was about to suggest that they retreat--Freya was just too powerful a goddess to contend with, Angel Slayer or not--but Wynnia was quickly darting on the offensive before he could get a word in.

"This sword will taste your blood!" she cried as she swung at Freya. The goddess was obviously not very used to having to defend against attacks. There were very few things in existence that could physically harm her, and so she was out of practice. She tried to dodge, but shrieked as the sword's blade sliced across her arm, leaving her with an open gash.

She teleported away, reappearing in the air above them where she clutched her arm in disbelief. She looked at the blood on her hand and then glared at Wynnia as well as Ewald who knelt behind her with furious distaste. "I'll never forgive either of you for what you've done!" she shouted in anger fit to tear apart the heavens.

"Can't you stand a little scratch?" Phyress teased as she aimed an arrow. She fired it, but it was deflected by Freya's powerful aura.

Wynnia raised her own weapon in challenge. "Come, my blade wants to taste more of you!"

"This is nothing," Freya replied in a dark tone of voice, dropping her hand from her wound. "For destroying my lord Odin, and for putting Rufus through such immense pain... I shall remove the two of you from the very fabric of existence. You shall be thrown into the void beyond possibility of rebirth!"

"I-I don't remember doing that!" Ewald stammered. "Do you?"

"Of course I do!" Wynnia replied, with her eyes fixed on Freya. Ewald nearly fell over, _really_ wishing that he had never agreed to this. "It hurt me badly to see Rufus filled with such sadness," she went on, "but I had no other choice! I have come now to be with him, so get out of my way!"

Freya's hands began to glow with her boundless energy. "You forfeited your chance when you chose Silmeria!" she shouted, raising an orb formed of her power over her head. "Prepare to die for your sins, mortals!"

"Wynnia!" Ewald cried, and pulled desperately at the tails of her skirt. "You simply can't deflect that kind of blast! We must retreat!"

She held the sword calmly and waited. "You, must run, Ewald. I don't wish to endanger your life." Ewald stared back at her, amazed at the sound of his real name. Wynnia's face became placid and serene. "As for me, if he loves me not for what I have done, then my punishment is both deserved and desired."

He pulled, but she would not budge. "Wynnia! What are you trying to accomplish through this?"

Freya hurled the sphere of accumulated power down to the ground, where it would surely blast a crater into the fields of Asgard, annihilating the trespassers in its wake. Ewald considered running, but refused to be a coward. He hugged his arms tightly around Wynnia's legs out of both concern and fear, and began to cast Guard Reinforce with as much strength as he could. The Einherjar all around him braced for the impact as well, casting their own spells or trying to step in front of their leader, Lady Alicia.

Ewald pressed his eyes shut anticipating the blast, but it never came. He opened them again when he felt Wynnia gasp, and then she was struggling out of his grip. He opened his eyes wide to find that the blast of energy had stopped just short of smashing into them. It was held at bay by a tall, long-haired man wielding a very oddly shaped weapon.

As he sat there paralyzed with the shock of barely escaping this situation with his life, the ball of energy fizzled out against the power of this man's weapon, and was neutralized. It disappeared in a wisp of light.

"Freya," the man said. "Back away, please!" He was young, and not very god-like. In fact, Ewald associated his long green hair and slightly pointed ears with elves rather than gods. He had come across the rumor in his studies that Odin was actually a half-elf, but this man couldn't possibly be Odin, could he? Why would Odin bother to spare their lives?

"Oh, Rufus," Wynnia sighed dreamily in relief.

So this was the man that Wynnia so longed to meet. All at once he remembered how deviously she had seemed before, when suggesting that they simply wait, and understood that this had been her plan all along. "You drew out Freya and agitated her into attacking simply to bring this man here?" he spat. Suddenly all the warm feelings and admiration he had felt a moment ago were completely gone.

"Lord Rufus!" Freya shouted desperately. "Get away from her!"

At this point, the man she called Rufus--who knew if that was actually his name, seeing as how Wynnia had a habit of renaming people--stood with his back against them, facing Freya who lingered in the sky. Ewald watched as Wynnia stepped towards him and, instead of embracing her long-lost love, pressed her blade right up against his back.

"Wynnia, what are you _doing_?" Ewald protested, but she was very much in her own world now.

- - -

Rufus sprinted through the halls of Valhalla, leaping over obstacles like a track runner, doing his best to catch up to Freya. How he wished he could use teleportation with any sort of accuracy. Fading out was no problem--he could disappear from sight without a hitch. Knowing where he would end up when he appeared again, that was the clincher.

He tore out into the fields, racing for a sparkle of light in the distance that he assumed was Freya going ballistic on someone. After all that had rubbed off on her in their time together, she still saw mortals as ants, and that was really what had to change if he was going to make any progress.

He was prepared to defend the humans, even if they were intent on fighting the gods. He had to bring their argument to some kind of peaceful resolution, because that was what he was about now. No more rushing into Yggdrassil impatient to get a piece of Odin whether or not it cost him his life; these days he had to be about diplomacy. He had already resigned himself to stand in their defense even before he saw who they were.

He stopped completely still for a moment when he saw her--a beautiful young woman with flaxen hair which flowed all around her on the wind as she fought, and brilliant blue eyes that looked ahead with steady determination. Her small but skilful hands gripped a pure white sword. Most of all, he was stunned by her brightly burning spirit, a familiar presence that he could sense as clearly as the bright light of the sky or the coolness of the wind.

Altogether he lost his mind. He didn't question how or why she would appear here or why she was fighting against Freya, and he completely disregarded the sword that she held--all he knew was that was _Alicia_ standing there about to be sent into oblivion by Freya, and he had to stop it--he had to save her, he had to protect her!

He summoned Gungnir into his hand with reckless abandon and leapt between Alicia, who stood with her comerades--many more familiar faces whom he had no time to acknowledge in his frantic hurry--and Freya's divine assault. He swung the spear, one of the four treasures, like a bat to deflect the blow. Even against Gungnir, it took a moment for Freya's power to diminish.

"Freya!" he said, holding up his hand to stop her. "Back away, please, I--" he cut himself off as he heard the girl behind him breathe his name. He pressed his eyes shut, trying to wake himself up if this was a dream. He hated that--waking up right when you believed things were really happening. Perhaps Freya had never come to his room and he was really still in his bed dreaming and, according to Freya, crying.

Freya shouted for him to get away, but before he had time to remember that the woman behind him held a god-slaying sword in her hand, he felt the sensation of something cold and sharp against his back. A firm hand clamped onto his arm, preventing him from turning away. "Alicia," he said, trying to look over his shoulder, but she was too small and close for him to see more than the top of her head.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, unknowingly mimicking Alicia's companion in surprise and confusion, as the blade tore into his cape and then his tunic. He tried to turn around, but she held him still. He grunted as she struggled with him. "What kind of trick is this?"

"I knew that you would come to protect me," she said in a deep and breathy tone. "I knew that you still cared for me, and I was right, you do, don't you? Yes, you must... you do..."

She pulled his arm and twisted it, forcing him to his knees. As a god, he possessed the strength to resist, but because it was her--because this person was _Alicia_, he could not bring himself to do so. Her arm hooked underneath his from behind, holding him down to the ground where she was able to secure him in a compromising position despite their difference in height. Her hand slipped under his chin gently, raising his face to look up as the cold blade of the Angel Slayer slid against his throat.

"You are even more beautiful than I remember," she sighed contentedly, holding him still as she placed her chin over his shoulder. Then she inhaled deeply again, breathing in his scent.

She pressed her body into his, forcing him to arc his back or cut himself against the sword's edge. "Alicia--" he gagged. "Please stop--"

"Shh," she hushed him, placing her lips close to his ear. His body quivered as her warm breath blew heavily against his neck. "Quiet now, my love," she said. How he had longed to hear that word spoken by that voice--but not like this. "The last thing I want to do is to spill your precious blood," she went on, "but know this well--if I can't have you, then I will make certain that no one else can." Her eyes darted upwards, fixing upon Freya with a piercing scowl. "Did you hear me, Freya?" she shouted. "He is mine! I will not let you have him save as a corpse!"

"B-back away, Freya," Rufus commanded, wincing as the blade cut a hairline slice into his skin. It had been so long since he felt actual, physical pain that the sensation was somehow inviting. He found himself wondering if he shouldn't simply press further into the blade and start all over again--but no, he couldn't leave Freya at the hands of this deranged woman; and even more--he could leave Alicia's soul trapped within her. It was Alicia's soul, he was sure of that... but it had been changed somehow, darkened.

"Lord Rufus!" Freya shouted desperately. "That blade does indeed possess the power to strike down a god, but it is nothing in comparison to Gungnir! Wield it against her! Send this fool mortal back to the cycle of rebirth!"

Rufus said nothing, silent in consideration, clutching the spear in his hand. The woman who held him fast spoke smoothly into his ear, using the gentle tone of the girl he still loved. "Please, Rufus?" she pleaded sweetly. "Let's go back to Midgard together. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Rufus's eyes fell on Freya as she lowered herself to stand upon the ground. She was frantic with worry, biting her lip. Emotion was such a rare thing for her, he hated that when she finally was able to emote, it had to be in this situation. "Sorry, Freya," he sighed in defeat. "I cannot hurt this woman." He tossed the spear half-heartedly at Freya's feet. "I leave it to you."

"No..." Freya said softly in disbelief, then her voice grew loud again. "Lord Rufus, you can't! I forbid it!"

The blade remained pressed against him, but the woman's hand moved, caressing the side of his face. Her fingers smoothed across his lips where he was assaulted by the sweet, familiar scent of her. He closed his eyes trying to block it out, but her touch was too entrancing.

"Listen carefully," she said to him. "My friend is going to cast a spell of transportation. I want you to use your godly power to extend the effect and take us all the way back to Dipan castle."

The young man who had been crouched behind them all of this time tensed up at the mention of him. "You can't be serious!" he shouted. Rufus believed that his voice sounded familiar as well. "I'm not even sure if I can get us back to the Forest of Spirits from here!"

"You can do it," she replied to him confidently, still speaking into Rufus's ear. "Just give it a try." He began to hear the young man's chanting and suddenly knew that it was none other than Lezard--but his spirit was equally different. It was pure and yet untainted. He wasn't sure which aspect of all of this surprised him more.

"Lord Rufus!" Freya shouted. "Do not give in to such ridiculous demands!" She hissed and her hands began to glow with the power she wished she could hurl at these intruders. "Ignorant fools! Dipan has already been crushed once, would you like to see it happen a second time?"

"You gods can't visit Midgard in physical form unless you inhabit a vessel," she replied. "The only exception to that rule is the valkyrie, and only one can exist upon Midgard at a time. I think that I can contend with one valkyrie, having been one myself in the past."

"You were only the vessel for Silmeria, you fool mortal!" Freya grumbled in reply. "Don't delude yourself with such a ridiculous thought!"

"I was _Valkyrie_!" she shouted in such a sharp anger that it chilled Rufus to the bone. "Do not deny my power, foolish goddess!"

"Alicia," Rufus said, struggling not to slit his own throat against her blade as she spoke. "I will go with you willingly. I will. But leave Freya alone... leave Gungnir here. That's all I ask for, and I'll go with you... I'll give you my power, just don't hurt her, please."

"I will agree to these demands," she said sweetly, "for _you_, my love." Her arms tightened around him as she removed the blade from his neck and pointed it towards Freya. "But know this, Goddess!" she shouted to her. "His heart belongs only to me! He will be my king, and no one else's!"

Rufus saw Freya's mouth moving as the lights of Lezard's spell began to shoot up from the ground, drowning out sound. He imagined that she was shouting in protest about ignorance and foolishness and mortals this and that, all things he had heard in their many arguments. To try and alleviate some of her worries, he smiled as they faded away. It must have been poorly executed, because she only looked more upset in the last moment that he was able to see her.

He closed his eyes, relenting his power, and hoped that Lezard was better at the reappearing part of the spell than he was. Otherwise, this woman who he was now very hesitant to call Alicia was going to be extremely angry with them all.


	4. Captivate Me

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 4: Captivate Me**

When Rufus opened his eyes again, he could smell rain in the air. Droplets began to splash against his face as he and the people who had captured him fully solidified into their new location. It had been so long since he had been witness to rainfall that he wished they would let him stay, but he felt a blade pressed against his back again, pressing him forward ahead of the others. He chanced looking up regardless of that, and saw that they were in the courtyard just outside of Dipan castle. Silver spires jutted out above the green foliage that surrounded them. It was the very place where he had--on two occasions, in fact--nearly left Alicia to fend for herself, and each time he had resolved to stay with her. A light rain was falling onto the silvery cobblestone path that led through the lush gardens to the castle's entrance.

"Court mage," Alicia grumbled darkly to someone standing behind her. "Couldn't you have transported us indoors? My hair will be frazzled!"

"What have you _done_?" the young man who Rufus believed must be Lezard gasped, just before answering his own question. "Y-you've kidnapped a _god_!" He found it more than odd--downright humorous in fact--that Lezard would have any sort of problem with such a thing.

Rufus stole a glance back at him and saw that he did look very similar to the one he held responsible for the most painful thing that had ever happened to him in his life. This young man had sort of a cocky, smarmy air about him. His voice was nearly the same. He had brown hair and he wore glasses--he had a cape of a dark color. Even with all of that however, he seemed very different. There was an innocence about him, and he spoke out of true concern.

"You didn't have to do this," Rufus said, allowing the young woman to lead him into the castle. "I would have come with you willingly."

"I had to be sure," she replied hastily, as if reassuring herself that she had not done anything wrong. "I had to be certain... I cannot allow you to escape, you must stay with me!"

"Y-yes," Rufus stammered in reply, completely shaken by how unstable she appeared to be. "I'll stay, don't worry!" but she shoved him along regardless of his promises.

Lezard shuffled after them, huffing about what a horrible situation this was here and there as Alicia led them through the castle. He agreed with most of what the guy was saying, and that was even more alarming. How was it that Alicia was scaring him, and yet Lezard was fine? He thought that Lezard would have had his soul utterly destroyed after all that had happened.

The castle was still in disrepair, as Rufus remembered it. Raindrops sprinkled in through cracks in the ceiling where plants grew into the walls. The magical fixtures which once lit the halls were no longer in service, leaving it quite dark and uninviting, like a villain's lair. There were no residents here aside from Einherjar, either. These he recognized vaguely, having only met them in battle. He struggled to recall even their names, but he knew their faces very well. They recognized him too, but to his dismay, they either waved and did nothing to help him, or shuffled off pretending they had seen nothing. He lost hope of anyone rushing to his aid once they realized what Alicia had done. Instead, they all seemed in on the conspiracy.

After several hallways and two flights of stairs, they reached a tall oaken door at the end of a long, quiet corridor. There, a cheerful young archer with her hair pulled up on either side of her head waited for them. "Mother!" she greeted someone behind them. Rufus remembered now, she was the daughter of Queen Phyress, one archer who was rather hard to forget. That meant that she really wasn't so young after all.

Phyress stepped forward and into his view. Had she been there all along? Even his senses were clouded by Alicia's presence. "Yes, we're home," she replied.

"Chrystie?" Alicia asked, sounding reasonably normal for a moment, despite the fact that she was holding him at the end of a sword. "Has the room been prepared the way that I asked it to be?"

Chrystie held up her hand and winked. "Of course," she said. "It is all ready for you, Milady!" With that, she threw open the door.

"Oh, good! Thank you so much!" Alicia said with an equally cheerful disposition, and all but punted Rufus through the door with the force of a heavy warrior. "Go inside and wait for me, darling!"

Rufus went barreling head-first into the chamber clumsily with an "Oof!" He hit the floor inside and heard the door slam shut behind him. He turned and saw that the girls had not followed him, neither had Lezard or any of the Einherjar.

"I'll be with you soon," he heard her say, voice muffled by the door between them. Rufus found himself wondering if he didn't dread this promised reunion as he heard their footsteps lead them away. He sighed realizing that he couldn't say that he did. To see Alicia's face again, he would brave even this mad woman's insanity.

He stood up and stretched his arms. This was his first visit to Midgard in the flesh in several years--since he had found Alicia again, in fact. She had been just a cute little girl then, clumsily tumbling over her skirts in the town of Coriander. How has she gotten here? What had turned her into this monster?

The room was dark, but not entirely black inside. There was a window which looked down into the courtyard and let in what little light broke through the rain clouds. "What, are they kidding me?" he chuckled as he walked over to it. The room was high above the ground, at least four stories up. There was some vinery that grew up walls of silvery stone, budding white morning glories, but there was no chance of it holding his weight. Still, this was a great mistake on their part! Flying wasn't something he had gotten a lot of experience with, but he trusted that he could make it a few stories down. Even if not, he could just jump out. It wasn't as if a simple fall could break a god's bones, after all.

Not that he actually wanted to _escape_, per say... he just wanted to have a bit more control over the situation. He laughed to himself as he thought of flying down there. "Why hello, Alicia. Now that you don't have a sword in my back, why don't we talk about this like adults?" he practiced with a cocky wave of his hand in the air, laughing to himself.

He began to poke his head out, but let out a sharp cry as his forehead smacked into a barrier of some sort, zapping him. He groaned as he realized that this must be the "preparation" that Chrystie was talking about. There were certain devices on Midgard that could keep even gods away from important items--the Dragon Orb, for example--and if used in a certain way, then certainly they could keep one _in_ as well. Dipan had been the center for developing such technology.

"Damn it all," Rufus grumbled as he tested the walls of the room, banging on them with his hands. All of them were similarly protected, as were the floor and ceiling. Things couldn't ever be that easy, of course not.

"Pathetic," he chided himself as he plopped down on the bed that took up one of the room's corners to think about his situation for a moment. It was rich and soft and the mattress shook under his weight. There was a lantern on the nightstand beside it, but when he tried to light it with a flick of his hand as he had learned to do in Valhalla (he was lazy, after all) it would not work. He slapped himself in the forehead, frustrated by his utter powerlessness, and understood that the barrier also dampened his ability to use magic. Maybe this was the real reason why he couldn't sense those standing around him very clearly, and not just that Alicia's spirit was overwhelmingly distracting. He doubted he could teleport out even if he knew where it was he was going.

In defeat, he sighed and sat around in the darkness, waiting for the princess to return.

- - -

The fields of Asgard were silent except for the whine of the wind as it flowed through its domain, currently without a master. Freya stood motionlessly in the exact place she had been for the last few minutes as if that horrible fiend's spell had also frozen her in place.

Again. It had happened again.

Freya screamed in anger and hurled the energy which had been building up in her hands. The bolt of ether careened across the fields, scraping clods of dirt and flowers into the sky before exploding somewhere in the distance amidst the screams of some very surprised gods and goddesses who had rushed far too late to her aid. It left a smoking black path in the ground in front of Freya, who stood clenching her fists and panting. "Damned mortals!" she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the far reaches of Asgard.

She straightened herself and looked at her feet. There lied Gugnir, free from the command of any soul. Rufus left it to her, entrusting its power only to her.

"Lady Freya!" cried a familiar voice. Freya spun about with an expression fit to kill any man, mortal or god, to find Hiemdall lurching behind her. There was a wound in his gut where the girl's sword had pierced it. It was only then that Freya remembered her own wound--the throbbing pain in her arm such a foreign sensation that she had very little idea of how to react to it.

"You useless wretch!" Freya hissed at him. "How dare you allow mortals into Asgard and dare show your face before me! Imbecile! Coward!"

"My lady," he grunted apologetically, holding his wound. "Gungnir... it must have god's spirit to serve as its base if Asgard is to remain stable. Quickly, pick it up... before our lands begin to wither!"

"Do not lecture me on the repercussions of your own pathetic failure, you simpleton!" she snapped at him and swiftly spun her back on him. Her eyes scanned over the field. The white flowers continued to blow into the air, but no more blossomed in their place. The Aesir had begun to converge around the place where Gugnir had fallen. If she did not choose to wield it, then one of them would, and she would be forced to serve them.

And why not wield it? When Rufus first appeared in Asgard, they had fought an excruciatingly long battle in which much of Asgard's landscape was damaged over the rights to hold Gugnir. She remembered Rufus laughing as he hit her, declaring it pay back for their last encounter, for how she had savagely attacked the girl that he was protecting. She hit him back, damning him to the lowest bowels of Hel, but all the while he seemed to be having a good time. Over several years--just a short while to the gods--that memory had grown from something agitating and damaging to her pride to something that Freya thought of fondly. Rufus had kicked her and shot at her with his arrows, but he had never swung at her with the blade of Gugnir. He had never meant to kill her; not even when she pummeled his face with her boots and rammed him into the dirt which by all means should have been hers.

In a way, that girl had granted her a favor. Now, Asgard could be what it was long ago, before even the rise of Odin, in the first age. She would be the most powerful entity ever to wield Gungnir, truly the Goddess of All Creation. Despite that... her first act would be to reclaim Rufus from the clutches of Dipan's princess.

She bent and took Gugnir by its handle. With a gentle yank, she wrested it from the ground. It felt light once it was in her hands, as if it had suddenly become a part of her. She had expected some sort of surge of power or a flash of light, but the transition was exceedingly simple.

The Aesir began to cheer. There was a cry that swept through the field, and then shouts of "Hail Lady Freya, Queen of Asgard!" and "Long live the Queen!" and the like.

Freya was neither flattered nor amused by this. "Silence, you ingrates!" she shouted. Deathly quiet broke over the field, though the flowers did once again continue their eternal budding, blooming, and unavoidable destruction. "There is no time to cheer! We must prepare the Einherjar for war!"

"War...?" Heimdall wondered aloud. "War with whom, your highness?"

Freya had to admit that she liked the ring of _your highness_, but she was still in a state of furious anger. "Dipan!"

"The Einherjar will never make war against Dipan," Heimdall replied. "It was difficult enough to find any who would go with Hrist, and she forced them! Without a valkyrie, there's no way--"

"We shall have ourselves a valkyrie, then!" Freya retorted. "Someone give me their status! Have they recovered from their merge and subsequent separation yet?"

"I will send someone to check on it," Heimdall replied. He was still kneeling on the ground, clutching his stomach which bled openly. "If your highness desires a war, then she shall have a war, but... Lady Freya... may I make one request of you?"

"You may," she replied. "But speak carefully, for I still have not forgotten your failing today!"

"Could you perhaps," he croaked, "heal my injuries? I do believe I may die rather soon, if you can believe it."

"Oh," Freya said shortly. "Fine."

- - -

"I wonder what Freya is doing," Rufus mumbled to himself as he laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Night had fallen and it was still cloudy outside. The view from the window was not very interesting as a result. He wondered if Freya would be having a party to celebrate her new title of Queen of Asgard. He was so weak, giving Gugnir away at the first sight of Alicia. At least Freya had grown enough in the last twenty or thirty years--he couldn't remember how long it had been, exactly, when every day and night was the same--that he didn't believe she would do anything horrible, like steal the Dragon Orb from Midgard or wipe out a kingdom just to draw out a single rebel.

There was a knock at the door. Rufus found that amusing, since he was trapped here. "What is it?" he bellowed in annoyance.

It was Alicia's voice that answered him. "May I enter?"

He sat up and looked towards the door in annoyance. "You will whether I say yes or no, won't you?" he answered her.

"I am attempting to be hospitable," she said. "May I come in? I want to see you."

Rufus had once heard that vampires could only come inside your room if you invited them. This felt suspicious, but he obliged. He had been waiting for her all afternoon. There was really no other course of action for him. "Yeah, I suppose so." He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat with an ungraceful lack of good posture, preparing himself to see her again. He knew that her face alone could unravel him, no matter how different her demeanor might be.

She cracked the door open and peered into the room first. On her face she wore a coy little smile that sent a pang ripping through his heart. After observing his distance from the door and his lack of interest in escaping, she opened the door wide enough to step in.

She entered wearing a gown of rich crimson silk. Its blood red color was striking against her light skin, ash-colored hair, and blue eyes. The shape of it conformed to her body, cut low across her chest. Its puffy skirts pulled away at the lowest point of her hips rather than at the waist, so that her entire figure was displayed for its best curves. When she turned to close the door, she took great care not only to keep her skirts from being caught in it; but also to give him a clear view of the back of her dress, which was laced up with an alluring criss-cross of shiny black ribbon that exposed her skin just past the small of her back. She wore a silver crown in her hair and at her side, still, there was the sword Angel Slayer.

Rufus watched her come in and looked down at the floor after examining her, not pleased at all with her gorgeous appearance. She stood directly in front of him, so close that with an outstretched arm he could touch her, but even after years of longing for nothing but to do just that, he made no attempt to.

"I am disappointed," she said, puffing her painted lips. "I hoped that you would meet me with a more pleased expression. I went through such trouble "

"You look beautiful, there's no question of that," he replied with an exhausted sigh. "But that's not something that Alicia would have worn." He summoned the courage to look up directly into her eyes and found them fixed on him, deep with worry. "Tell me who you really are and why you've brought me here."

"And what color _should_ I wear?" she replied eagerly, ignoring the rest of his words. She knelt on the ground at his feet in a puff of her skirts, revealing her slender calves and her feet in tiny silver slippers. Her lips pulled into a sweet smile again as she gently placed her hand against his knee. "I will wear any color that you believe suits me."

"I won't tell you," he said, pulling his legs up into the bed and far away from her. "If you can't remember, then you can't really be Alicia, can you?"

"I_am_ Alicia!" she retorted angrily, slamming her hands on the edge of the mattress. Rufus stared back at her frozen in shock at just how badly an offense that was to her. "I thought that you--_you_, the only person in this world who knows who I am--would understand that!"

"I have never met you before," he answered cautiously. He had to be careful not to push her too far, but he could not let her continue growing any delusions. She may have been Alicia reborn, but she certainly wasn't the same person. "And you have never met me. You may even remember certain things that happened, but you don't_know_ me."

"Oh, but I do," she replied, clasping her hands together pleadingly as she leaned against the bed. For a split-second she really did resemble Alicia, and Rufus found himself questioning his position. "I have met you before, even in this life. When I was but eight years old, I tripped and fell. A beautiful stranger helped me to my feet. It was you, I know that it was you. Since then, I have remembered many things that happened in my previous life, and I journeyed far and wide to find you."

"But who am I?" he grumbled, growing agitated. "I am nothing but a random stranger to you! You know my name and you may even recall some events, but do you remember how you _felt_? Can you remember that?"

"I loved you," she replied. She pursued him onto the bed, climbing into it on her knees. "I loved you with all of my heart just as I do now!"

"No, you didn't!" he shouted as he leapt from the mattress and retreated to a far corner of the room. He watched her recoil, hurt, and was once again reminded of Alicia--of the way he used to hurt her indirectly with his careless words. She curled into herself on the bed looking as if she might cry. "Not with all of your heart, at least," he sighed, forcing himself to calm down. "A much larger portion was reserved for someone else. If you can't even give me that name, then you're not Alicia. You're not even close."

"How..." she began, speechless. "How can you say that to me? How can you be so cruel? I thought that you loved me!"

"I loved Alicia," he said, forcing himself to remain objective though he hated to make her look so sad and heartbroken. "You... I don't even have your name." Her lips began to tremble, and her hand rose to wipe at her eyes. He took a deep breath to relieve the immense frustration he felt, and returned to the side of the bed. He held his hand out to her as she sat, the way he had long ago as they climbed the tree Yggdrassil--if she could just remember that. "I would like to know you," he said, forcing a positive tone into his voice with a smile. "Please... won't you tell me your real name?"

"I want you to call me Alicia," she said with sniffle, staring at the hand offered without taking it. One could hardly guess that this was the same woman who had abducted him using lethal force. "If you won't call me Alicia, then don't call me by name at all!"

He frowned and took his hand back. "Alicia would never be so selfish," he said. "She would never have intentionally led her friends into danger for her own benefit, abducted someone against their will, or--or--" he stuttered, throwing his hands up into the air, "or climbed into a man's bed wearing such a slutty gown!"

Her face changed instantly at those words from that of a poor victimized damsel to one of intense fury. "_Slutty_?" she gasped loudly, and leapt out of the bed after him. "How dare you say that to me! I don't care if you were the king of Asgard, _no one _calls me_slutty_!"

Rufus suddenly began to regret saying that as he watched her hand fly to the handle of her blade and pull it out. He cried out sharply as she lunged at him and pressed him against the door. He found that blade under his chin again, and this woman--who was definitely, _definitely_ not Alicia, smirking at him with a depraved look in her eyes. "You must think you are some piece of work to insult a girl who has so painstakingly prepared herself for you," she said in that deeper tone of voice, and then licked her lips.

Rufus grinned sheepishly. "Okay, bad choice of adjectives," he responded as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. "You look awfully hot in it, I was just saying that Alicia--"

"Refer to anyone other than me as Alicia again and I will cut you!" she shouted, cutting him off.

"Okay okay, don't be so rash!" he cried.

She backed off of him by a few inches and smiled sweetly. "I'm kidding," she said, but the sword was still against him. Its blade was placed gently against his chest at the moment. He grimaced and wondered if he should believe that. Probably not. A blush appeared on her cheeks. He wasn't sure if she could fake something like that or not, but it made him achingly remember Alicia. "Do you really think I look good?"

"Yeah," he said in defeat. That was something he couldn't possibly deny. "You do."

Her eyes softened and her lips began to pout again ever so slightly as she examined his face. "Oh goodness," she sighed, and licked her thumb. "I nicked you earlier, didn't I?" She began to rub the spot on his neck where she had given him a light cut, wiping away a small smear of dried blood. Rufus had completely forgotten about it. "I'm so sorry," she said softly.

Rufus grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his neck firmly. He frowned as he looked down into her eyes. "Which one of these people is the real you?" he asked her. "When you seem to be Alicia, it's like you're acting... but when you are this new person, it frightens me." He squeezed her hand. "What happened to the Alicia that I knew?"

Her face turned down. "I've been lonely," she said. When her eyes once again met his, they were cold and pierced him with anger. "I am Alicia, I am the same person I always was! I love you, and I don't understand why you can't accept that!"

"You're holding a sword to my throat!" he shouted back. "If you can't see why I'm a little put of, then you--you're just crazy!"

"_I am not **crazy**_!" she yelled loudly, and forced herself on him again. She was pulling him away from the door, and pushing him down into the room. This time Rufus did put up some resistance. She was undeniably strong, but he was still larger than her. He allowed himself to be pushed back into the room, but would not bend over. He wouldn't give her another chance to put that blade around his neck. "Never call me crazy!" she shouted. "About that I am not joking!"

Rufus mentally put "crazy" on a list of words not to call her along with "slutty" as she grabbed the door's handle and let herself out. He leapt for the door seeing his chance to escape, but it slammed on his foot. God or not, that hurt him. He winced but tried to force through the door anyway.

"Stay!" she shouted at him in annoyance and shoved the door closed. When Rufus tried to touch the handle again, it jolted him like a crack of static electricity.

Too tired of this to even curse, he slid to the floor and sat there. "Just like Freya," he sighed and slapped his face. Obviously, he was failing at reaching either the real Alicia or the real new person who existed within this girl's frightening collection of personalities. "I definitely need help," he admitted to himself. He knew exactly who could help him, too. "Silmeria..."

He limped over to the bed and laid down in it again. He could smell the girl's heavy perfume there, but it smelled nothing like what he remembered of Alicia. Alicia had never worn any such thing, or painted her face for that matter. Her scent was something that Rufus had a hard time recalling, but he knew that it had been sort of bitter and sweet together, like that of anyone who traveled and fought. She was natural, simple, pure, and altogether beautiful.

Silmeria could help him. Silmeria could get through this strange woman's facades and reach out to both Alicia and her new birth. Silmeria could save her.

"Gods!" he groaned in the silence of his own inescapable chamber. "Send me Silmeria, please!"

- - -

"Definitely _not_ Silmeria," Freya said in distaste as she looked to the three crystals, each containing a valkyrie's spirit. Their ethereal figures were encased in the sparkling blue stone, their helmets removed and their eyes closed. "Silmeria would only side with that blasphemous princess and her einherjar, and lead Dipan against me. We can rule out Silmeria right now."

The silver-lined chamber used to house the spirits of the valkyries was empty except for Freya, but she had developed a small habit of talking to herself when she was intensely worried or annoyed. Currently, she was both.

"Hrist is unpredictable now," she thought to herself aloud. "In the end, she sided with the princess of Dipan and her cause... Her heart fluctuates too much. I cannot rely on Hrist." That saddened her. Hrist had always been her personal favorite--the most loyal, and the strongest of the three.

"Lenneth," Freya said, letting the name pass through her lips in consideration. "The Lenneth that merged with the mortal host of Silmeria was one from the future... from a timeline that may be completely separated from us now. _This_ Lenneth..." a small smile lit her face as she looked over the valkyrie's beautiful features--her porcelain skin and long silver hair. "This is _our_ Lenneth. She did not merge with that host... she has never so much as met her. She is completely unaware of what has happened. Not only that, but her spirit was not so damaged... if awakened now, she would be at her full power where as the others may still be weak."

She lifted herself into the air, hovering in front of Lenneth's crystal, quite contented with her decision. "Yes! Awaken, Lenneth!" she called out.

With a snap of her fingers, the crystal containing Lenneth Valkyrie shattered into sparkling diamond dust. The valkyrie's spirit became a glittering ray of light. It then solidified, forming the valkyrie's physical host. Freya smiled brightly as the white light receded in a burst of white feathers.

Lenneth Valkyrie remained in their wake. Her helmet with its white plumage held its rightful position displayed prominently on her head. As always, the expression in her stormy blue eyes was calm and observant. "Lady Freya," she addressed the goddess.

Freya sighed in relief to hear her voice. "Lenneth!" she exclaimed, putting her arms around the valkyrie for a moment before letting her go. "Thank the world tree that you are here. We've had..." she paused, wondering where she could possibly begin, "...quite a bit of trouble."

Lenneth nodded in understanding. "Name your mark, my lady, and I shall exact revenge upon them."


	5. Strategy

**Angel Slayer  
Chapter 5: Strategy  
**

The castle of Dipan, run-down as it appeared, was a self-sustained colony--a small commune of sorts. Ewald had never suspected the einherjar of being anything more than flesh and blood due to the fact that the had to eat and sleep just like mortals did. The archers went out into the sparse forests surrounding the island kingdom to hunt, while the warriors and mages worked at various crafts within the castle. Every two weeks on average, a group of them would travel to Coriander and exchange these things for the vegetable and grain needed to sustain their diet, as well as the miscellaneous supplies they required. These market trips were studded here and there by hunting marks and searching for treasure, yielding funds for their continued subsistence.

Ewald had always marveled that as flighty and sometimes, well... _mentally unstable_ as Wynnia was, she somehow managed to coordinate all of this. She really was an intelligent girl, and could even be kind and self-sacrificing, but her personality was like a coin standing on its edge. Sometimes he wondered if there really was another person inside, the real Princess Alicia, struggling to be let out. Instead of releasing her, Wynnia seemed to be trying to assimilate that personality and push her self out--to completely become Alicia, casting Wynnia away.

And it was all because Wynnia was in love with this Rufus person.

Ewald sighed as he walked through the castles anxiously, trying to plan what they should do next. Wynnia was obviously preoccupied. He didn't want to know what she was doing with the god she had locked in one of the bedrooms of the castle, though he did hope that it would put her in a better mood when she came out.

There had been times in his life when he wondered why Wynnia would not chose him. He wasn't exactly bitter over it; he just had to wonder. He was going on thirty, and had experienced few meaningful relationships in his life. These all had ended when Ewald proved more interested in the pursuit of knowledge than love. He hadn't been bitter with any of his break-ups either, because in his life he had never met a perfect woman. All he had ever accomplished was to settle for what he could get. He had an impossible standard that women had to live up to, and he wasn't up to the standard required to earn the admiration of that sort of woman, himself. It presented a conundrum.

That standard may have been formed through his friendship with Wynnia. Wynnia's good points were very good, after all--it was just that her bad points were downright deadly. Since learning the nature of Wynnia's quest, Ewald had admitted jealousy to himself. All of this for a man whom she had only vague memories of? That was insane, even for Wynnia. That she was the same age as he was and had saved herself from courtship, marriage, or even a single kiss through her entire life all in hopes of wining the heart of a god was mind-boggling. His head hurt just to think about the strength of her delusions.

He considered himself a lonely man, but the extent of Wynnia's loneliness in comparison to his must be vast as the abyss. If he was powerless to help her, then perhaps it did require a god's power to fill her heart. "Fine, I will help you, Wynnia," he groaned to himself.

"Who are you talking to?" chirped a high-pitched voice. Ewald spun around in surprise to find one of Wynnia's archers standing there, smiling blithely. She was one of the younger-looking ones, and one of the einherjar commonly found in Wynnia's presence.

"No one," he replied defensively. "Your name... it's Chrystie, am I right?"

"Sure is," Chrystie replied, bouncing on her heels. Ewald did not fail to notice the cut of her shirt, which exposed the bottom of her breasts. Upside-down cleavage. Interesting. Ewald quickly reminded himself that thoughts like this were exactly why he didn't have a girlfriend.

"How is Wynnia?" he asked. "I mean... Lady Alicia..."

"It's okay," Chrystie sighed, and placed a hand to her forehead as if she had a headache. "Just don't let _her_ hear you call her that."

"So, you people," Ewald began, and cleared his throat. "I mean, you einherjar do know that she isn't this Princess Alicia?"

"That's a hard one," Chrystie replied. "She acts more like Alicia than she would let anyone see." She gave a small shrug. "Trust me, I know all about chasing errant young men. She's going about this completely wrong."

"I would agree," Ewald answered with a nod. "But all we can do is support her. You einherjar agree with this?"

"We are here to watch over the two of you," Chrystie replied. "And my family is particularly interested in what Wynnia has been doing with Dipan!" She giggled after saying this, though Ewald was not amused. "We princesses descended from the line of Dipan have to stick together."

"So you think that you're a princess as well," Ewald sighed. "Too many princesses..."

Ewald felt Chrystie slap him on the shoulder just as he began to turn to walk away. "Hey, Wynnia is upset right now, did you hear about it?"

"Upset?" Ewald replied. "I should think she would be estatic at the moment, why... with her pet god stored safely away."

"That idiot has managed to make her angry somehow!" she hissed in annoyance. "I swear, and we made her so pretty, too!"

Ewald sighed. He had seen Wynnia's dress, and pretty wasn't exactly how he would have described it. "I wouldn't hold it against him," he said, though he was not sure that he very much liked the weak god who had yielded so easily to Wynnia's demands. "It isn't as if rousing Wynnia to anger is such a difficult thing to do." Not to mention that he was being held prisoner, even though he showed no sign of resisting or of running away.

"She's out in the courtyard if you want to talk to her," Chrystie said. "Maybe you can calm her down. You're the only friend that Wynnia--and not Alicia--really has."

"Eh, it's none of my concern," he grumbled. She glared at him for a moment, and he reconsidered. "I'll see what I can do."

- - -

Ewald took the prompt and headed for the courtyard. The rain had stopped and the clouds were finally clearing away. There were still some puddles that formed in the depressions of the stones that lined the courtyard, worn by moss. A random mismatch of wild flowers were always in bloom, broken up here and there by something once planted by a noble some decades ago, such as a trellis which still supported a few white roses, or an exotic fern in a broken pot.

Wynnia had thankfully changed out of the less than modest dress she had been wearing, but Ewald loathed to see that she was wearing an old farm girl frock. He thought that she looked best in armor, but that, as he realized, was just part of his preoccupation (fetish, maybe) with powerful women.

She was here practicing what Ewald learned to think of as her form of stress relief. The einherjar often brought in logs and set them up on pegs here to serve as targets in practice. They were full of arrows and covered in slash marks. Wynnia was going all out on them spinning about with the blade, paying no heed to the edge of her sword. Ewald assumed--hoped, at least--that it was unbreakable as well as deadly to the gods.

"Slutty," she growled as she tore into one of the logs, slicing it in half in one terrifying swing. "How dare he call me slutty... after I dressed up just for _him_!" with the last word, she utterly destroyed the last target still standing with a vertical chop. It fell into two pieces as she stopped to catch her breath. After a few moments in silence, her breathing became normal again and she stood up straight.

"It_was_ a pretty slutty dress," Ewald said, seeing as she had calmed down a bit.

Wynnia turned and frowned, unsurprised to see him standing behind her. "Phyress and Chrystie dressed me in that!" she said with a pout. "They said that he would like it..." She stopped swinging the sword about and instead hugged it to her chest. "You don't think I've made a bad first impression by wearing that dress do you?"

"Oh no," Ewald groaned loudly. "You made a bad first impression by holding him hostage and abducting him."

Wynnia held up the sword in one hand and clenched the other in annoyance. "I couldn't help that part!" she said. "How else..." she looked away shamefully. "How else could I possibly win him over?"

Ewald sighed. "Have you ever considered acting _normal_?" he asked her. "Just be who you are, for the love of all the gods."

"But Alicia _is_ who I am!" Wynnia argued vehemently, and then promptly calmed herself again. "At least... she is who I have always wanted to be. He is supposed to be the one who understands that. He loves her. How could plain old Wynnia from Coriander compete with both a princess _and_ that wretched goddess from Asgard?"

"You know it makes me a bit ill when you act weak this way," Ewald replied without a bit of sympathy. Wynnia started at this blunt response, but he did not give heed to her. "The Wynnia that I know is as powerful as any goddess. In fact, that's why I find myself jealous of that man." He sighed whimsically. "Oh, to have a goddess at my side..."

"Goddeses aren't all that!" Wynnia retorted, sticking her nose into the air. "They are stuck up, arrogant, and wicked!"

"Yes, and you resemble a goddess when you are at your best," Ewald laughed.

She looked down at the ground and smiled half-heartedly. "You are really no help," she said. "But thanks..."

"Nothing to it," he said, with a shrug. He pushed himself off of the stone column he had begun to lean against and waved a hand over his shoulder lazily as he left. "I know that if you want him badly enough, you'll make him yours. That's why I'm thankful to the gods that I am not him."

Ewald left Wynnia there, knowing that what he had said was as much of a pep talk that she would ever take. He asked himself if Wynnia was really the source of his standard. Though normally he was situated firmly underneath her foot, the fact that she was so longing for love and acceptance was grating. That wasn't what he particularly wanted in a woman.

That Goddess Freya, on the other hand, he thought as he rubbed his chin. Now there was a piece of work.

But all of this was distracting him from what he had originally set out to do upon leaving his quarters that evening. Since learning that the einherjar were in fact who they said they were, he had wondered about their state of being.

If an einherjar free of their valkyrie was flesh and blood, then how did they resist age? They possessed many characteristics of elves in that respect, although they were free of the fear that the gods may take their bodies as vessels. They could walk freely in Midgard or Asgard like elves or the undead, yet they were like human beings otherwise.

This intrigued him. He made his goal for the rest of the evening to find a subject and study them.

- - -

Rufus tried to sleep and found that he could not. Too many things were egging at his mind to relax. After staring at the ceiling for quite some time, he grew bored and decided to once again look through the window. From the bed he could see the slightest sparkle of stars. The clouds were gone.

In a sudden surge of excitement, he leapt up from the bed and darted to the window. The sky at night was something he missed dearly. In Asgard, it was always the most perfect time of day, never marred by a single grey cloud. It was so perpetually boring. He vastly preferred Midgard's ever-fluctuating skies.

After looking wistfully at the stars overhead for some time, a hint of motion caught his eye. At first glance it was a blur of white, a bird or maybe a cat, he assumed. However, as his eyes fixed on the figure, he stopped breathing.

She wore a white gown of lightweight fabric that flowed from her body from simple stitches at the base of her chest. The collar tied close to her neck, and long sleeves pillowed around her shoulders. The tail of the simple night dress reached to a modest length below her knees, but as she darted and leapt about in the courtyard, unintentional flashes of her legs would flash. The dress was common and unfancy--somehow more lovely for that very fact alone.

The blade of the deadly sword in her hand reflected the moonlight, shining with the same silvery luster as her long hair. She sprung to and fro on nimble bare feet, holding it gracefully. Her delicate hands thrust it outward and circled it in her hands it to parry an invisible enemy's attack. She danced around the remains of the targets she had destroyed previously, substituting them with imaginary opponents.

"Alicia," Rufus said softly, and placed his hand against the window, forgetting all about the barrier. It reminded him with a loud pop that he was a prisoner here, and that the girl below was not Alicia. "Damn," he muttered, shaking his stung fingers as he continued to stare intently. This attire was casual and unplanned, and it made her look exactly like the girl that he loved. Even the way that she handled the sword reminded him of her gentle movements.

He stood watching her without any regards to the passing of time, not a single thought passing through his mind except for _she still exists_. It was undeniable. She was somehow alive.

- - -

After some stealthy maneuvering, Ewald found a suitable subject mulling around in the kitchen. She was the warrior queen Celes, if the fact that she was an einherjar confirmed her identity. It seemed that at least one other einherjar wanted to claim that she was General Celes, but this red-haired warrior seemed to fit the description much better. He wondered what knowledge of history she possessed, fine details of past events lost to time.

He hid himself behind a counter as the woman chopped vegetables. From his hiding spot, he could see very little but the plume of her helmet swaying back and forth almost as if it were angry, as the woman chopped at the food with too much of a warrior's eagerness and not enough feminine finesse. "Damn," she said in a rough voice as the knife cut her finger.

Ewald dared peer over the counter as she turned away to tend to the wound. There was a spot of blood on the surface of the table. So, einherjar could bleed. How very interesting.

"What are you doing?" Celes sneered, and quickly snapped her head around. She caught him ducking back down, but he was too late. She popped a piece of cucumber into her mouth and chewed it as she turned the corner to face the other side of the counter where he hid.

"Research," Ewald replied sheepishly, holding his hands up.

"I must say," she huffed, "aren't men your age supposed to be spying on women undressing or bathing or something of the like rather than watching them cook?"

Ewald stood and dusted off his robes and pants. "Oh, I find this much more interesting," he chuckled. "You einherjar are fascinating."

Celes arced one eyebrow suspiciously. "Oh?" she humored him. "I thought that until very recently you believed us all to be mad."

"And perhaps you still are," he responded, taking a step back for his safety. He slipped behind the counter and picked up the knife she had been using. "You apply too much force," he explained. "The trick is to use a very sharp knife with enough weight to pull itself through." He placed the blade against the cutting board to demonstrate. "The edge is curved in this fashion so that you will seldom have to lift it completely. You just rock it back and forth at an angle, and..."

Celes watched as he cleanly sliced a carrot. "You seem to know much about cooking for someone of your class and occupation."

"I do know how to use a knife, believe it or not," he said. "Although... I would never be much use with it on the battlefield."

"Perhaps I should teach you a few things about a sword then," she answered with a cocky chuckle.

He sighed, really adverse to anything of the sort. "I am too tired..."

"We have had quite a day," she agreed. Their eyes locked once more and he saw that she was staring intently, as if appraising his value. He did like strong women, but he sincerely hoped that this was not her way of making eyes at him. "I am worried about Wynnia."

He let out a huge sigh of relief. She raised and eyebrow again at this reaction and he quickly recovered, clearing his throat. "I don't know how to get through to her," he said. "But... it does me some good to hear someone else refer to her as Wynnia."

"I know someone whom that name should be made known to," Celes answered, muttering a bit, as if all of this was tiring to her as well. "But Wynnia..."

"She wants to be Alicia, yes?" Ewald groaned. "You seem different from the others, who seem to support this delusion of hers."

"I only want her to be happy, no matter who she decides to be," she explained. "The problem is my sister and niece, as well as many of the other female einherjar, who are overjoyed to the point of giddyness that she is finally reunited with Sir Rufus--so much so that they have lost sight of the fact that Wynnia is not Alicia."

A deep frown formed on Ewald's face. "So," he murmured darkly. "That man is a stranger to Wynnia, as I thought."

"No," Celes replied. "He is a great deal more than that..." She looked frustrated as she tried to explain it. "I feel as if we only have part of each story. Strategies based on such little information will always fail."

"Yes," Ewald replied. "What can we do?"

Celes looked up. "Let us go to visit him. We shall ask him ourselves."

"Wynnia would murder us both!" Ewald exclaimed, coughing in a panic as he did so. "For going near her precious toy, she would decimate me!"

Celes turned and placed her hands on her hips. "She does not need to know of it," she said. "We shall go tomorrow, while she is tending to the upkeep of the castle as usual."

"I don't see what talking to him will help," he groaned.

She smirked. "Don't you want to observe a god up close and in person?"

Ewald stared at her. Did every woman in this damed place know his weakness? "Okay, fine," he agreed. "Tomorrow."

- - -

It had taken some time and effort to stop the gods from being so jubilant about Rufus's disappearance. She had tried hard to explain to them that it was nothing to be glad for, but she quickly came to realize the fact that she was the only one who felt that way. Every other resident of Asgard was quite glad to be rid of him.

No wonder he was lonely, she thought. How naive she was to think that she could ease that sort of loneliness. He honestly did not belong here. Nevertheless, she would bring him back, and she would make the others accept him. He would be her master no longer, but her protégé. She would find some suitable goddess to be his wife, one that would care for him while listening to her every word. Not some heathen mortal princess.

Lenneth was obviously not that goddess, however. Even after hearing the story shorthand from Freya, she was not happy with Freya's choice of friends.

"Forgive my insolence, Lady Freya," Lenneth said, "but... I fail to see your reasoning."

Freya stood in the throne room next to the throne rather than upon it, though it now rightfully belonged to her. She feared that it might still possess some warmth of its former masters, and that it might cause her to unravel. "It isn't a complicated mission, Lenneth," Freya replied, trying very hard to maintain her composure. "Go to Dipan, and bring back the god who was stolen."

"But this... _Rufus_," Lenneth said, speaking the name as if it were an offense to her ears. "He is an intruder to Asgard, is he not? He cowardly stole Gungnir, along with the throne, in the wake of Odin's defeat. In fact... that heretic actually assaulted Lord Odin and failed before coming into possession of the divine spear."

"All of that is long past us," Freya replied.

But Lenneth was not so quick to let that decide it. "He is no longer the master of Gungnir," she stressed. "Nor does he have any particular duty as a god... his immortality was siphoned from Yggdrassil. What is he a god of? What reason could we possibly have to go to war, risking our own resources, not to mention our relationship with the einherjar and countless mortal lives, simply to bring such a heretical imposter back to this land?"

"He is one of our own now, Lenneth!" Freya demanded in a loud and powerful voice which caused even Lenneth Valkyrie's eyes to widen. Freya became aware of her wavering grip on her temper, and forced herself to calm down. "You may not understand because you have been sleeping for so long," she explained, "but Odin's actions as of late were not in the best interests of the worlds. The mortals who rose against him--led by your own sisters, I remind you--were in their full rights to stand against him. Even as I stand here mourning deeply the loss of him, I must admit this fact. It is because Asgard is changing, Lenneth. Asgard must change, because things that do not change die."

Lenneth bowed her head once again. "I trust in your wisdom," she said. "I shall go to Midgard and bring him back to you, as requested."

"And do not forget the second priority of your mission," she added.

"Yes," Lenneth replied, and stood. She drew her sword and lifted it in a show of triumph. "As ordered, I shall strike down Alicia, Princess of Dipan in accordance with divine punishment!"


	6. You Think Too Much

**Angel Slayer  
Chapter 6: You Think Too Much**

Lenneth Valkyrie ascended to Midgard as the sun rose over Dipan Castle. She decided to assess the situation carefully before making any move. For that reason, she appeared in human form in the once-great city of Dipan. Her blue armor and feather-plumed helmet were gone. Instead, she wore a noble woman's dress and a pair of shoes. Her long silver hair, as always, was pulled into an enormous braid that trailed down her back.

Dipan was a ghost town were very little stirred. The moment of Hrist's attack was captured in pristine condition. Rubble laid where it had fallen. No one had bothered to clean it or even to raid the houses that still stood, fearing divine retribution for either act. Lenneth thought that the dead kingdom was terribly lonely to look upon, and that she would not like to be its queen.

What sort of princess reigned over a forgotten kingdom, all alone? Lenneth was far from sympathetic to the girl who had enraged Freya and humiliated the gods so, but judging souls _was_ in her job description. She wanted to know what sort of person this Alicia was, and if she could be made into an Einherjar. Pride would not limit Lenneth Valkyrie from recognizing a valuable soul.

A midnight blue bird flew overhead, chirping lively. Lenneth raised her eyes to the first sign of life she had seen thus far, and followed it as the bird joined others of its kind--some the same dark blue and others white--in a small courtyard between a group of buildings.

There, she saw something very strange. Two warriors assembled there, both wearing pouches of seed over their shoulders. One was light-skinned and blonde, while the other was darker and brunette. The first wore bright red, while the other wore blues and violets. They looked somewhat similar, though extremely different in color. Both appeared extremely bored with whatever it was they were doing.

"Excuse me," Lenneth interrupted. The two men looked up. "Are the two of you... einherjar?"

"Collected by Silmeria herself," the darker one chuckled. "Name's Kraad, and this is Roland. Who might you be?"

"Yes, and how did you get here?" the one named Roland asked suspiciously.

"Roland," Kraad grumbled. "When you see a pretty lady, don't be rude."

"You're going to earn a beating from your wife if you talk like that," his friend replied with a chuckle.

"I," Lenneth began, trying to think of a cover story. "My family lived here years ago. I came here to learn about their heritage."

"I'm surprised you made it through the underground passage all by yourself," Kraad said. "You must be one tough lady."

"I am fully capable of taking care of myself," Lenneth replied. "Is it only you einherjar who live here?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Other than a couple of humans. Pretty lonely. Old Dipan has been cursed and left to gather dust."

"Who is your ruler?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"That would be Wynn--er, I mean Alicia," Roland answered. "She's the one who has us out here feeding damned birds."

Kraad seemed to be enjoying his job a little more as he tossed a handful of seed on the ground. "Hey, it's not so bad," he said. "Would you rather be doing grunt work all day?"

"Yes, to tell the truth," Roland replied. "I suppose you wouldn't understand, since you were whipped before she even got to you."

"And now we're both whipped," Kraad laughed.

Lenneth was severely uninterested in what they would rather be doing with their time. "Is it Princess Alicia whom you speak of?" she asked them. "I should like to meet this famous woman."

"Oh, she's up in the castle," Roland explained. "Although... she might be too busy to talk to you at the moment. Kraad and I aren't the only whipped ones. There's bound to be wedding bells... if anyone can hear them over the cries of terror."

"Perhaps she could use a lady in waiting," Lenneth said.

"She's got plenty of those," Kraad laughed. "And all of them make us work all day and night."

"I see," Lenneth replied, and began walking in the direction of the castle. "Well, then I shall leave you to this important task."

She left the courtyard, and the two einherjar watched her as she did so.

Roland turned to Kraad. "Don't tell me that you believe her story, now."

"I don't," Kraad replied, "but Hel if I'm getting involved."

Roland laughed at his friend's unusual show of wisdom. "That's a very good idea."

- - -

The ray of sunlight creeping through Rufus's window finally inched across the pillows and up to his face. He cracked an eye open groggily, wondering where he was. This wasn't his bed. Everything was bright and hazy. He took a deep breath and smelled something smelled sweet and homey but a little salty too, like butter and maple syrup. Nostalgia hit him like a cart full of anvils. Everything seemed so far away from that horrible castle he had been stuck in. He had to be dreaming.

When he opened both of his eyes and allowed them to focus, he was greeted with a beautiful vision that wasn't all too shocking. Not from his subconscious, no. Next to him, laying on the white sheets, was a vision of the girl that he missed so dearly. She laid huddled up for warmth, her legs showing under the night gown that she wore and her little fingers curled around the edge of a blanket. Her ash-colored hair fell over her shoulders and pooled all around her. Her cheek was pressed against the pillow, stretching her face just enough to look silly and adorable. Little shallow breaths escaped from her lips hanging slightly open. He thought he would like to kiss her.

Instead, he watched her without moving, hardly daring to breathe, sure that he would wake up if he did. Dreams didn't last very long after he realized what they were.

Moments passed by, and eventually the girl's thick eyelashes parted, revealing bright blue eyes. Slowly they fixed on his and she smiled sweetly. He didn't want to wake up.

"Were you watching me for a long time?" she asked him in a shy little whisper.

"Yeah," he answered, sure that this would be the thing to shatter the dream. But, he didn't wake up. She just laid smiling at him. "Did I die?" he asked her whimsically, thinking that certainly this was some sort of afterlife where all of the angels looked like Alicia. "Did that crazy woman kill me?"

The girl's sweet smile turned into a menacing frown as she sat up and glared at him. Suddenly he realized was was going on and also sat up. "H-how did you get into my bed?" he stammered, backing away from her. There was significantly less bed available than he had anticipated however, and he fell out onto the floor in an inescapable web of sheets and blankets. His head banged on the floor. "Ouch!"

"What did I tell you about that word?" she grumbled.

"It slipped," Rufus answered as he struggled to regain his bearings. "Good morning, by the way."

The girl crawled to the edge of the bed on her hands and knees and looked down at him sympathetically. "I didn't touch you while you were sleeping or anything," she said, as if she expected him not to believe her. "I promise I didn't."

"Okay, well, why are you here?" he asked her, finally standing up.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed and sat. Her posture when she was being coy was just like Alicia's. "I just couldn't sleep knowing that you were so close by, and yet I couldn't see you," she said. "There's a few things that I meant to say last night, but I didn't. I didn't because I got a bit worked up."

"I'll say," Rufus replied, and took a look around the room. There was a noticeable lack of Angel Slayer today.

"I didn't bring it with me," she said, making a guess as to what he was looking for. "I suppose without it you could throttle me and demand your freedom, but I just couldn't imagine you ever hurting me."

"You're right," he sighed. He'd only just woken up and already he felt tired. "I'd die before I'd hurt you, even if you are..."

"...not Alicia?" she completed for him. "Listen to me," she said in a serious tone. "I am, and I'm going to prove it to you today."

"Oh really?" he said, placing his hands on his hips. "How will you do that?"

She looked up at him sharply. "Silmeria," she said. "You asked for that name, correct?"

Rufus dropped his arms to his sides again and was left speechless as that name escaped her delicate lips. "I thought that you didn't..."

"Remember her?" she said in an almost snarky tone, completing his sentence again. "I do remember."

Rufus backed away from her a step, aghast. "Then why are you on this crusade?"

"Because I love you!" she retorted, hopping up from her seat on the edge of the bedding. She had no sword to threaten him with, but he found himself cornered all the same. Instead of trying to force herself into his arms, however, she tore her eyes away and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "I'm sorry," she said in a broken voice that was almost a whimper. "It seems that I have a difficult time maintaining self-control."

Rufus, for the first time, felt sympathy for the girl who Alicia had become, rather than just for Alicia, who was stuck within her somehow. They weren't two entities, after all. It wasn't like Alicia and Silmeria sharing a body anymore. Something was horribly wrong here.

"I was able to tell Silmeria that I loved her," she said. "I was able to be one with Silmeria, to be with her--but only at the cost of something I love just as much." She looked back up to him. "It haunts me that I left you, Rufus. It hurts."

_I need Silmeria._ She didn't need Rufus. That was a fact that he had always accepted.

"Maybe I don't deserve a second chance," she said. "But I will do anything to make you happy, to make up for these years you have suffered alone. What do you want? I can give you anything, I will do anything."

"All I want is for you to be happy," he replied. "For Alicia's new life as a new person to be happy. That is all that I've ever wanted."

For a moment her eyes softened as she looked into his. Finally, he thought she might just be understanding him. That would be a great start. But... then her expression darkened into a scowl. Her fingers shot out and grabbed at the fabric of his tunic. She began to shake him in frustration. "That's just it! Nothing would make me happier than to be your perfect wife!" she shouted, rattling him as if it might dislodge some part of his brain that he wasn't using. "To wake up every morning beside you just like this!"

Rufus had to admit that sort of wake-up was something he could get used to pretty fast. It had been really nice, a dream come true. However, being shaken like a tambourine wasn't something he liked very much. Some guys might like it rough, but not him. "AH-ah-AH-ah-AH-ah!" he bellowed as she shook him. "Calm down!"

She promptly let go of him and took several steps back, her eyes open wide. "I'm so sorry!" she apologized, and began to fan herself with her hands as if this made her so embarrassed that she was hot. "Oh, I keep messing things up!"

He watched, utterly dumbfounded, as she scurried to the door, stuttering. "I-I'll just get dressed and make some breakfast for us, and then maybe we can talk a bit more? Please don't worry!" With that, she was outside, slamming the door shut behind her.

- - -

Ewald was in the kitchen again, studying eating habits of einherjar. They didn't seem to need to eat quite as much as normal humans, he observed. This led him to wonder if the entire act of eating was not simply a subconscious desire--a way of holding onto one's humanity. Even if they felt hunger, could they ever starve? Only a depravation analysis would prove it, and he wasn't certain that any einherjar would be willing to volunteer.

Phyress and Seluvia were among the einherjar present. They sat next to each other at a table. Phyress was digging into left over pork ribs from dinner a previous night--for breakfast, yes--while Seluvia stuck to spring vegetables. Yet... Phyress would never gain a pound, nor would she feel lethargic.

As Ewald was pondering the significance of this, Wynnia burst into the kitchen in her usual adventuring regalia, the vest and skirt that looked like Princess Alicia's. He was glad to see her dressed normally again. Both the red dress and the white gown were too far to either extreme for his tastes.

"Phyress!" she shouted. "I need some food!"

Phyress did not look up. "Seluvia," she said. "I need some food to give to Lady Alicia."

"H-hey," Seluvia responded. "That isn't fair, she asked for yours!"

Wynnia interrupted. "I don't want either of your food," she explained. "I need a breakfast for two on the double!"

"Oh, I see," Phyress said with a lilt in her tone, taking Wynnia by the arm. She pulled her to their table. "So, how did it go with Lord Rufus last night?"

"I don't know what you mean!" Wynnia replied.

Phyress winked. "I saw you sneak back up there after everyone was in bed," she said. "Don't think that I didn't see you." At this point, Seluvia tactfully rose from his seat and took his food elsewhere so as not to be involved. "And now here you are asking for breakfast to take back to your room."

"I- I-" Wynnia stammered, then crossed her arms defiantly. "He was already asleep when I got there, and I left before he woke!"

"A likely story," Phyress teased. "Tell me what really happened!"

"Wynnia," Ewald interjected. Wynnia looked up at him. He cleared his throat. "You have more important things to do today than pander to your pet god," he said. "We haven't taken in any funds since well before we left on our mission, and things aren't looking good. I dare say that we won't have enough food for dinner. You must organize a hunting party and a group to go trading in Solde. We collected so much treasure pulling that ridiculous stunt that we should have plenty of money if you'd just sell it."

"Why do I have to do it?" Wynnia pouted. "Phyress, can't you hunt on your own?"

"Yes, I can handle the hunters," Phyress replied, "but do you really want to leave your shopping errands in the hands of Chrystie? She'll spend double what we take in. Or Celes? She won't bring back anything tasty or fun."

"Furthermore," Ewald added, "You are our leader. You can't be seen lazing around simply because you've gotten what you wanted. The gods could attack at any moment! We have to be prepared!"

"Okay!" Wynnia cried, giving in. "I'll go to Solde if I must." Then she looked up at Ewald pleadingly. "Could you feed Rufus while I'm gone?" she asked, as if the god she captured was a cat or a fish. "I'm not sure if gods need to eat food, but I imagine he must be getting hungry."

"Fine, if it'll get you to Solde," he groaned, masking the fact that he was glad for this opportunity quite well. "Get going already."

"After breakfast!" she retorted, and reached out for some of Phyress's ribs.

"None for you, young lady," Phyress scolded, slapping Alicia gently on the wrist. "You'll ruin your figure."

Ewald hid his disgust at Wynnia's childish behavior and left the kitchen. Outside, Celes leaned against the wall of the hallway, her helmet tipped over her face. "She's going out today," he explained. "We just have to be patient."

He would rather be patient than instigate Wynnia's wrath. She would be very well on her way to Solde before Ewald would go anywhere near her precious prize.

- - -

It had been a long while since Rufus's captor had promised to return, and he wondered if he hadn't scared her off. He wondered if he had said something to make her uncomfortable being near him. Wouldn't that be just like old times?

He passed the time looking through his window, likening himself to some kind of fairy tale princess locked up in a tower. Pathetic. He watched blue and white birds pecking about in the courtyard below and wished that he could watch Alicia practice her sword again.

Though this might have appeared boring to Rufus at any point before his ascent to the throne of all thrones, he found that the time passed by extremely quickly compared to life in Asgard. Or, at least it had felt like less time. Looking back on the fact, he had spent almost thirty years in Asgard, about as long as his life on Midgard, and it was all a blur of boring lectures with Freya. He wondered if the gods felt the same way, or if it a single human's lifetime was like a week's vacation to them. Maybe that was why he hadn't given up on Alicia in some part of his heart. It just didn't seem like so much time had passed, especially not when her current incarnation looked so similar.

The sun had risen over the castle and out of his sight before he realized that it was well into mid-day. Was he really going to sit here and wait for someone to rescue him? He was pretty sure he could break out of this barrier if he really tried. At the same time, he no longer possessed Gungnir. Without it, wasn't he just a young and extremely minor god? Maybe it was capable of holding him after all.

Without even so much as a knock as a warning, Rufus heard the door unlocking. He stood up waiting to see what mood the girl would enter with this time; if she would be angry, regretful, or, well... happy to see him. Instead, he saw two other familiar faces when he opened the door. The first was Celes, an Einherjar of Alicia's, and the other was the mage known to him as Lezard.

"Celes," he exclaimed in relief upon seeing the armor-clad warrior woman. "You were always the sensible type. Could it be that you've come to let me out?" He said this doubtfully.

"Sir Rufus," Celes greeted him with a nod. It had been a long time since he had been called that. He used to squirm at the title when Silmeria addressed him as such, but now that the gods called him Lord Rufus, a name like Sir seemed pleasantly simple. "Nothing against you, but you know that we Einherjar are sworn to serve Alicia just the same as if she were Silmeria."

"I understand that," Rufus replied, "but this woman is hardly Alicia, is she?"

"Her name is Wynnia," Lezard said firmly.

"Wynnia..." Rufus repeated slowly, testing to see how the name sounded on his lips. It was a beautiful name, but he wasn't sure if he could ever get used to it. "Thanks for that," he replied.

The young man pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose in that horribly familiar fashion. "It's not for you," he said, and Rufus sensed his distaste. "I just want Wynnia to give up this charade and go back home to where she belongs."

"You should tell me your real name too, in that case," Rufus said. "In my head, I keep calling you Lezard."

"It's Ewald," he explained. "I don't like that name... _Lezard_."

"I can understand why not," Rufus chuckled. He looked at him and examined his spiritual aura once again. It was strange having sight like this, though he'd gotten very good at turning it on and off. He had always wondered how Silmeria picked him so clearly out of the crowd, but with vision like this, she could have seen him from a mile away for what he was. The soul inside this person was the same as the one possessed by their old friend-turned-enemy, but it wasn't dark and evil.

"I have an inexplicable affinity for the lost arts, it's true," Ewald explained. His frustration with Rufus seemed to ease. Maybe if he could befriend the mage, he thought, then he would have an ally in this place, if the Einherjar were unwilling to help him.

"I was thinking that maybe you're not that Lezard who visited us from the future and changed the timeline," Rufus explained, "but maybe... that you are the holder of this soul who is native to this world. Your soul has yet to become--well, tainted."

"Ha," Ewald laughed sarcastically. "So instead of being the reincarnation of some evil wizard, I've yet to become him? That just makes me feel oh-so much better, thank you!"

"Hey, the future can be changed, all right?" Rufus responded, frustrated. "I just don't know how you would have retained all of this knowledge if that's the case."

"I am who I am," Ewald said, "and who I was or who I'll be does not concern me."

Rufus shrugged. "Fair enough."

Celes remained quiet for all of this, so much that Rufus had almost forgotten that she was there. "There is trouble," she said, "with Alicia's spirit."

"What do you mean?" Rufus asked her, looking up in alarm.

Celes looked to Ewald. "Has Wynnia always been very lonely?" she asked him.

"I've been her good friend since we were children," Ewald scoffed, as if he found that idea ridiculous. Then he gave it some more thought and it appeared that he changed his mind. "But... even so... she has never been particularly close to me, I suppose." He sighed. "She was very young when she started telling people that she was really a princess. I thought it was her way of getting attention, but... I guess that it was true, and no one ever believed her."

Celes turned her eyes back to Rufus. "Where is Silmeria?"

"Silmeria?" Rufus repeated, caught off guard. "She is sleeping within a crystal construct," he said with a dismayed groan. "They needed to rest after their souls were nearly burned away. Freya told me that it's miraculous that they were able to maintain their individuality at all. I could send their souls to Midgard to be reborn as humans, but then they would lose their memories... and I did not want Silmeria and Hrist to lose their memories after all that they had been through."

Celes waited quietly, expecting more to the story. Rufus supposed that there was. "And I guess it was partially my own cowardice," he added regretfully. "It was difficult enough seeing that Alicia didn't recognize me... I didn't want Silmeria to forget who I was. I didn't want to be the only one who remembered."

"But Alicia was able to regain her memory," Celes replied.

"It sounds as if you have a theory as to why this occurred," Ewald said, pushing at his glasses again as he examined the einherjar.

Celes nodded. "Alicia's soul is a companion to Silmeria's," she said. "It is also highly attuned to each of her einherjar--especially Sir Rufus."

"Einherjar?" Ewald asked, looking at Rufus in surprise. "But aren't you a god?"

"I'm new to being a god," he replied, hoping that would be enough explanation. He really didn't have time to explain. He looked at Celes. "Is this my fault?" he asked her. "Because she saw me when she was a child?"

Celes's expression changed to one of amusement. "It would be more entertaining if you had inadvertently brought this upon yourself, but I believe you were merely the trigger for something that would have inevitably happened at any rate. Alicia's soul is yearning to recombine with both yours and Silmeria's, but Wynnia seems to be focusing a bit strongly on you..."

"This morning she told me that it hurt her," Rufus said, guilt racking him again. "That she had to leave me the way that she did. I mean... it always hurt me, but I was willing to live with it if she could be happy. If she has been suffering for all of her life, then..."

"Then we haven't taken very good care of her," Celes answered sadly. "I understand."

Ewald shrugged in dismay. "If you care about her so much then why not just give her what she wants?"

"What?" Rufus responded in surprise. Celes looked a little shocked to hear this as well.

Ewald frowned at this reaction. "She's pretending to be someone she isn't because she thinks that you don't love her. But you do love her, so why not just go along with it?" He sighed. "Really, I don't envy your position, but I fail to see what the trouble is." He looked at Rufus challengingly and smirked just a little in that smarmy way of his. "I had expected you to be some high and mighty regal bastard, being a god and all. I expected that you would reject Wynnia due to her class or something like that. Gods are so stuck on their position over mortals, after all."

"Well," Rufus groaned in sarcasm. "I'm glad you dont' feel that way."

"On the contrary, you're a total fop," he laughed, waving his arms in the air. "You can't even handle one little woman! Are you that pathetic?"

"What's a dandy like you doing calling me a fop?" Rufus retorted, backing up to a fighting position. "You think it's easy making sense of a woman when she's got a knife against your throat? Why are you following her around like a dog on a leash if it's so simplistic, huh?"

"I am most definitely not Wynnia's obedient pet dog!" Ewald argued back in a raised tone of voice, though the specifics given were only evidence of that fact. "I do what she says because it's easier that way, that's all!"

"Boys," Celes interjected, stepping between the two with her arms held up to quiet them. "Now is not the time for quarreling." Both the half-elf god and the mage allowed their anger to simmer as they glared at each other. "Now, if you ask me, then I believe Ewald has a point."

"What?" Rufus spouted, while Ewald smiled, pleased with himself, and folded his arms in triumph.

"Perhaps if Wynnia feels more comfortable exposing herself to you," she explained, "she will relax and this aggressive nature of hers will subside."

"I get it," Rufus said in a low voice. He still wasn't happy with the idea. "I just don't know if I can really..."

"Just seduce her a little," Ewald prodded in a rich, velvety voice. "Just a little."

Rufus glared at Ewald through slanted eyes. "_Please_ don't say things like that. It gives me the creeps."

"Sounds like someone doesn't have any experience," Ewald chuckled, the light of the window glinting off of his glasses.

"Of course I don't have any experience!" he retorted hysterically, choking on embarrassment. "Alicia is the only girl that I have ever loved, ever!" At this, Ewald's laughter erupted into a full on cackle.

Celes groaned and titled her helmet back to run her forehead. "Would the two of you please stop."

"Yes ma'am," Ewald responded innocently. "Now, if he thinks he can _handle_ it," he went on, antagonizing Rufus, "Wynnia will return this evening. I can send her here, and let them talk things out. He can show her a little affection, and hopefully we can get somewhere."

"A little affection, huh?" Rufus answered. His stomach turned in knots. "I'll give it a shot..."

Ewald frowned in dismay. "Good grief, you're turning green already."

"Great," Rufus grumbled. "My face can match my hair."

"Why don't I just cast a spell of aphrodisia on you and speed up the whole process?" Ewald laughed. "I dare say, simply getting Wynnia laid might solve a great deal of our problems."

"Don't talk about her that way, you depraved sicko!" Rufus shouted. Ewald began to laugh, making no effort to counter that accusation.

Celes groaned and grabbed Ewald by his high collar. "We're leaving," she said in a gruff tone. "Come."

"Oh, and look, I forgot to feed him," Ewald chuckled as the door shut behind the two.

Rufus looked at the door as it slammed. It locked back into place again. Nothing good ever came from the other side of that door, he thought.

- - -

"So, the princess is away to Solde on duty," Lenneth muttered to herself. She overheard the conversations of even more Einherjar who resided within the castle. "I suppose I should try to locate this Rufus fellow whilst she is away."

Quietly, trying extremely hard not to draw attention to herself, Lenneth scoured each floor of the castle. She decided to start by searching the levels underneath, which were filled with the remains of horrible scientific equipment, but the monsters that had once been generated here were slain. All that was left were the casket-like chambers. She thought that this would be an ideal place to hide a god. Perhaps they were performing wicked experiments upon his ethereal body. If so, then Freya was correct after all. They could not allow the humans to get away with such blasphemy, even if the god in question was an estranged one.

However, nothing turned up in the bowels of Dipan Castle. It looked as if no one had been below in decades. The strange contraption sealed away by Hrist some years ago was silent.

Lenneth hated to waste time. Half the day was gone searching these damned ruins. Angry with the distraction, she headed back to the castle floors. The first floor would be too obvious, she thought. Instead of starting at the bottom, she should have gone to the top.

Wary of einherjar who might spot her, she climbed the multiple staircases. Thankfully, most of them were still about their daily tasks, nor had the princess returned. It was the best opportunity to search.

She quickly reached the top floor and then began to inspect each room. Each one was a bedroom for royalty. One of these likely belonged to the princess herself. That was something important to note.

She only cracked each open to look inside, finding nothing of interest. Finally, she reached one that was locked. Not only that, but when her hands touched the handle of the door, she felt a light shock. It was enchanted. Certainly the proper application of her powers could force open the human-crafted seal, but such a display would not only attract more attention than she wished to draw, it would cause more damage than she intended. What these free einherjar and their human friends did with their time was none of her concern. She only wanted to rescue the god trapped here and release a single soul back to the cycle of rebirth--that of Princess Alicia.

The cleanest way to go about it would be to get the key. This might require some skillful interaction with the einherjar. Even they would not recognize her as a valkyrie at first glance, though some suspicion may already exist thanks to Freya's promise of war.

"I'll find the man who holds the key, and then it will be settled," she said, annoyed that yet another trek through the castle would have to be made.

- - -

Ewald swung the key to Rufus's room about idly on his finger as he walked through the halls of the first floor, whistling to himself. He was suddenly in a very good mood. He hadn't fed Sir Rufus or even brought him any water as promised, but that did not concern him. He would mark it up as part of his deprivation experiment.

He wasn't generally an optimist, but it just felt like since he had a handle on the entire situation with Wynnia and the godly object of her desires, nothing could possibly catch him by surprise.


	7. Act on Impulse

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 7: Act on Impulse**

The day had passed peacefully. Ewald found a book that he hadn't read yet and went to a secluded area of the castle to read it in peace, hoping to be hidden when Wynnia returned. It was rare that he found any reading material, although this wasn't too interesting. It was something about royal family history that had been left in the castle.

He sat on a set of steps in an empty hallway lit only by the flickering light of torches. Broken chandeliers that would never glow again glittered in the light. It was peaceful here in this dark, secluded place.

He heard the noise of a footstep echo against the walls and groaned in annoyance. "Please leave me in peace!" he commanded the einherjar fool enough to disturb him, but when he looked up, he gasped to see a new face standing in the hall.

She was a radiant beauty who wore a noble woman's attire, but he could care less what she was wearing. His mouth fell agape in awe of her hair which sparkled like sapphire gems of blue flame in the humming light of the torches. It was braided tight down her back, all the way to her feet, like a silver chain.

"Wh-who are you?" he asked her in a breathless voice, too weak in his legs to attempt standing.

Her eyes scanned over him as she remained silent. There were a calm blue-grey, like the sky before a storm.

He realized that he was being rude and shot up to his feet. "F-forgive me," he restarted, and struggled to bow without falling over. "How disrespectful of me to ask a lady's name before introducing myself. I am Ewald Valor, Court Mage of Dipan." He used Wynnia's title since it did sound pretty important after all, and he couldn't think of anything better.

The woman's noble features stiffened into a scrutinizing look. "Are you the only human who lives here?"

"Aside from Wynnia, yes I am," he replied. "You are not an einherjar, are you? Would you mind telling me who you are?"

"I am visiting this place from Solde," she replied. "My parents once lived here, long ago."

"I see," Ewald replied. He was suspicious, but her loveliness was too enthralling to care if she was telling the truth or not. "It is a treat to see another human here, especially one possessing such intense beauty." He smiled hoping that she would react to the compliment somehow, but she ignored it.

"You said the name Wynnia..." she said slowly, considerately.

"She goes by Alicia," Ewald corrected himself. "Princess of Dipan, or whatever nonsense." He could care less about that right now. "Please, milady? Won't you tell me your name?"

She withheld her answer, but came even nearer to him. She stopped within arm's reach, where Ewald could see every detail of her figure, from her thick silver eyelashes to the detailed beading on the chest of her shirt--which was quite full, by the way. "I'm lost in this castle," she explained, though she did not appear to be very worried. "And I'm also... not feeling well." She looked like the perfect picture of health to Ewald, but after saying this, she raised the back of her hand to her forehead, and fell right over.

Ewald gasped and caught her in his arms. She was obviously faking it, but what did he care? He had been permitted to touch this gorgeous creature. He knelt, holding her tenderly to his chest. "Milady," he said with a chuckle. "If you are interested in being in my arms, you need not resort to such dramatic methods." She smelled sweetly. Her skin was so soft...

Her eyes narrowed as her hands grasped at his waist. "Oh my, aren't you forward? Don't you at least want to find a room?" he laughed, then saw that her hands were grasping at the keys on his belt, and not for the belt itself. "Ah!" he shouted. He did not want to let go of her, even despite this realization. Screw Wynnia's god-lover, this was the woman of his dreams!

"So much for the peaceful approach," the woman sneered as she leapt out of his arms, just barely thwarted from taking the keys. She hit him in the face in the process, but he only reveled in being touched by her. "Hand them to me, lest you meet your premature end!"

"You're..." Ewald stammered. His eyes widened as sudden realization hit him. "A goddess from Asgard... _Valkyrie_!"

His gaze remained fixed unblinking in amazement as a blinding white light enveloped her body for a moment. He was left frozen to the floor in awe as the light parted, pulling away from her body in the form of two enormous wings just before erupting into a burst of feathers and sparkling dust.

As it faded away, the woman stood before him, now even more beautiful than before. Brilliant blue armor guarded her torso and shoulders. Her helmet was adorned with the plumage of a pure wite bird. Cold slate eyes glared out at him from beneath a silver visor. She was the embodiment of beauty and power--perfection.

"Lenneth Valkyrie," he mouthed breathlessly as she pulled her sword from a scabbard at her side. How her name found its way to his lips, he had no idea, but it suited her. It seemed impossible that she could be named anything but.

Quickly she was darting at him with her sword held ready to strike. "Wait!" he shouted. "Stop!"

"Defiler of the gods, return to the cycle of rebirth!"

He dodged her first strike, and then attempted to summon up some magic. "Dark Savior!" he called out, but his power was held back. He did not want to hurt her.

"Fool mortal," she demanded, "give me that key, and I shall allow you to live."

"Wait, please--!"

"If you refuse, then I have no choice." She leapt at him once more, and this time he was against the wall. There was nowhere to run. He thought for the first time in his life, even through Wynnia's crazy missions, that he was really going to die. No! Not when he had finally found this beautiful woman!

More words leapt into Ewald's mouth as he feared for his life. They were the words of a type of magic even he had never learned. He spoke them hastily and held his hands out, going on instinct, unable to control himself.

The valkyrie shouted in indignation as her body froze still. Beneath her feat, a magical circle formed on the floor. Ewald saw this and tried to stop whatever it was, but it was too late. The valkyrie was being pulled apart inside of the flashing chasm of lights that rose up from the circle. An ethereal figure of blue light began to emerge from her back. The valkyrie's soul, struggling to hang onto her vessel, and failing.

"No!" he cried, "make it stop!" but it would not cease. He tried to reach into the circle to help her, but it pushed him back with incredible force.

Finally the valkyrie's beautiful body was disintegrated as Ewald stood watching in horror. "I must save her!" he shouted, beating his fist against his chest. "How? What have I done?"

He began to chant again, yet another spell that he had somehow pulled out of the dark recesses of his mind.

- - -

Through the afternoon and into the evening, Rufus prepared himself for his encounter with Wynnia. He thought of what he should do, and how he should go about doing it. He wanted to show her some affection like Ewald and Celes had suggested, but he felt uncomfortable doing anything er... seductive, as Ewald would have put it. As if he even knew how. Tender touches and expressions of love were things that he only wanted to share with Alicia.

But, this was all for Alicia--for Alicia's new life as Wynnia. If he could make her comfortable with being Wynnia, then maybe the curse would be broken. Her heart would fill up with love and happiness and she could just be that kind person who existed underneath the exterior. Yeah right. Like he possessed that kind of power. Still... he had to try anything that might be worth a shot.

A kiss on the cheek--he decided that was the best gesture to make. It made his feelings obvious while still being chaste enough to keep things innocent and honest. Furthermore, he thought that anything more complicated might be beyond his ability to pull off.

He couldn't help but grin as he considered it. She was going to be surprised. Throwing her off would be pretty interesting in itself, and well worth the experiment. That evening when he heard a knock at his door, he was actually eager to greet her.

"Come on in," he answered the knock.

Wynnia entered the room bashfully, stepping across the floor lightly on graceful, slippered feet. Today her shoes were simple little white flats that made her feet look dainty instead of those silver high-heeled things she had on the previous night--things so pointed that they could be considered weapons. Her dress was a pale teal blue, the skirts of which floated around her legs and reached down to the calf with no slits; modest. The top of it was cut across the collarbone and had poofs of fabric around the shoulders. The fabric was decorated with tiny, subtle white diamond shapes laid out into a pattern.

"Have I done better this time?" she asked with a playful smirk.

"Yes," he said, and stood up. "You look... um... pretty." This was already flopping, he thought, He couldn't even give her a straight compliment without his legs weakening and threatening to give out.

"This time," she explained, smiling at his comment, "I picked the clothes myself. You see, because I really am Alicia, I knew that whatever _I_ picked out would be what you would like."

"Well," he replied hesitantly. "Yeah, I suppose that worked..." It did. She was so incredibly adorable this way. Her smiles were worming into his heart. "I expected to see you again this morning," he said.

"I'm sorry," she replied, looking at him sadly. "I really wanted to spend more time with you, but everyone insisted that I lead an expedition to Solde today." She smiled again and pulled at the sides of her skirt, turning on her heels to show it off. "Responsibility is bothersome at times. But... at least I was able to buy a new dress, right?"

"Yeah," he replied, "Considering the result, I'm glad you went." Rufus hated acting, and he didn't like deception, but the even bigger problem was that this was neither. For some reason he felt like he was talking to Alicia, though he knew now that this girl's name was Wynnia.

Wynnia turned away and turned her head to the floor. "You don't have to sound happy," she said. "You've been trapped in this room all day. I'm still keeping you prisoner here... I'm sorry. I still just can't let you go." He watched as she clenched her fists and wished that he could read her face. "I'm still too afraid that you'll run away," she went on. "Without Silmeria... If I lose you, then I'll really have nothing."

Rufus took a step nearer to her, uncertain of what he was feeling. He was sympathetic for one, and annoyed at another rate. H wanted to comfort her, but he was frustrated that she could not trust him not to leave her. Maybe after this, she might be able to.

He placed his hands gently on either of her shoulders, hands resting on the sleeves of her dress. It would be much nicer if she were wearing that sleeveless gown now, he thought. As wonderfully cute as these puffs on her shoulders were, they did little for his tactile senses. Then again, perhaps it was better that way. He wasn't supposed to be really enjoying this, after all.

"You're not nothing on your own," he said. "You don't really need me or Silmeria..."

She gasped sharply as he pulled her towards him, pressing her back against his chest. She was so soft even through the stiff fabric of her dress that he couldn't resist squeezing her a bit. Over the years he had forced himself to deny that he had feelings like these; but now that they were accessible to him, he was ravenous as a starved man. He felt her lean back against him as she closed her eyes contently and sighed. He knew that he was teetering on a slippery slope, but it was such a nice sound, like that one time--the only time he had ever held her close.

He swallowed hard, hoping that she wouldn't hear the nervous gulp as he summoned his courage and went for it. He leaned down to place his lips very close to her ear. He spoke her name in a hushed tone. "Wynnia..."

Her eyes fluttered open immediately. "W-where did you hear that name?" she sputtered, and tried to push away from him.

He hushed her and held her firmly against him. "It's okay," he said, and slowly let go. This time she didn't retreat. "It is all right for you to be Wynnia. I _like_ Wynnia."

Wynnia stared straight ahead. Her blue eyes lost their focus as she stood stiffly, still accepting his touch. "No, you couldn't... Alicia is is the one who you--"

Her protest ended as Rufus did something that he had long wanted to do--though preferably once Alicia--or Wynnia, even--was less confused. He pressed his lips against her cheek.

The sensation of her skin against his lips was more powerful even than he had imagined it to be. As his nose brushed her face, he inadvertently took in her scent. This time she was not dredged in oils and perfume. Her natural scent brought back memories they he never believed he would hold so dearly--of how they cowered together helplessly in fear in the Forest of Spirits, and of how she carried him over her shoulder through the caverns beyond, murmuring comforting words to him all of the way. He wondered if his own scent reminded her of those things.

Wynnia froze. He forced himself to pull his lips away. It wasn't until then that she exhaled a deep breath she had been holding back. Goose bumps all over her neck amused him; he had thought that it would take more than that to move her. When he looked again at her cheek, he was surprised to see a small black speck there. "Huh?" he said aloud, and rubbed at it with a finger. It proved to be part of her skin. "What is this dot?" he laughed softly. "A freckle?"

Wynnia gasped, this time in embarrassment. "It's a mole," she whimpered. "I always cover it up with powder. You rubbed it off..."

"Oh, it's my fault, of course," he chuckled. Even this argumentative tone was familiar. "Why do you hide it, anyway?"

She made no effort to pull away from him, but she did cross her arms over her chest as if she felt uncomfortable. "I don't like it," she said. "Alicia never had such a thing."

"I think it's cute," he said, noting that she slipped and referred to Alicia as another person.

Wynnia pouted her lips, which were not painted today, but were still rather puffy and full. "No you don't."

"I do," he argued back, and kissed the spot again. This time it was a natural, unscripted reaction. Wynnia instantly relaxed, breathing in deeply. He wasn't lying. An endearing little blemish like that was hardly a flaw. Even more, he liked the feel of pressing his lips against her. The second time, pulling away was even harder.

He felt her fingers grace the side of his face and comb through his hair. This must be what a cat feels like, he thought as she rubbed his scalp affectionately. Lucky damned cats. When she lifted her arm, his hand slid from her shoulder. Without paying attention to what he was doing, he placed it at her waist instead. The fabric there was tailored to fit her skin much more cleanly. His fingers pressed against her gently to feel the slight plumpness of her curves underneath the dress. He resisted a laugh as he thought that if Wynnia had anything in common with her previous incarnation, then "plump" was definitely on that list of words not to say. They really were not so different... just changed by different circumstances.

He could feel her breathing deeply underneath his palm as it slid gently across her stomach. He tried not to touch her in any way that he would regret later, but it was difficult. He knew that if this kept up, soon enough he wouldn't mind if her name was Alicia or Wynnia. Wynnia was the one who remembered him. The constant pain in his heart ceased for a moment when he was near her, like it had when he was absorbed by Alicia's spirit. He wished to be like that again, to be her einherjar again--to be part of her.

_No, stop._ He would not allow himself to do that. He only wanted to show this girl who was both Alicia and Wynnia that he could accept the Wynnia side, not that he was willing to cast out his feelings for Alicia, or worse yet, look at her as Alicia instead of as the new person who she was--even if that person was _exactly like_ Alicia whenever she wasn't _trying_ to be Alicia. Then he wondered if it was wrong of him to try and get her to stop forcing herself to be like Alicia simply so that she really would be more honestly like Alicia. Wasn't that also an aspect of her personality? Gods, why did this have to be so confusing?

She felt him pause and turned to face him, placing her hands against his chest. He was so caught off guard by this sudden embrace that he did not make any attempt to calm the emotional turbulence of the situation. All he had wanted was a little peck on the cheek, and suddenly all of this had happened.

Wynnia rose up on the tips of her feet and kissed him full on the mouth, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck so that he could not escape. Her taste, like her scent, was nostalgic and wonderful.

This, needless to say, impeded Rufus's (already questionable) ability to think. He managed to keep his mouth shut as she began to lick at his lips, but she only retaliated against this defense by pulling him to her level and licking at his ear instead. Even Rufus was, until that moment, unaware of just how sensitive his ears were. In their points there were more nerves than in a human's, and each and every one was tingling in the most amazing sort of way.

He pushed her away. "W-wait," he stuttered, staring into her face. He expected to see her staring back at him with that ravenous, almost malicious look in her eyes--but no. Her angelic blue eyes sparkled up at him, glossy and as innocent as Alicia's had ever been. He wished it wasn't so. It hurt.

"Rufus," she pleaded to him in a breathy tone, "make love to me."

Okay, maybe not so innocent.

"_What_?" Rufus spouted. "No!"

She pushed against him, clutching at his shirt. "But... I want you to be my first--no one but you."

"Y-you're getting carried away!" he sputtered nervously. "Calm down and think about this!"

"I have thought about it... for a long time," Wynnia replied, still holding herself close to him and watching his horror-stricken expression with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. "When your skin touches me, I feel this wonderful sensation... like a spark of the world tree's power all through my body."

Did gods really have that affect on humans, or was she imagining it? Rufus couldn't tell. He had never touched a god when he was mortal, and the only mortal to touch him since becoming a god was Wynnia.

"I want to feel it deep inside me," she said in a slow, lusty voice. There she was. The crazy woman. He felt her pull at the cords holding his collar in place. It constricted around his neck. "You do love me, don't you?"

"I--" Rufus stuttered. He loved her a second ago, when she was sweet. Whenever this dark and menacing person emerged, it was something that he couldn't love--and he was now convinced that this was neither Alicia nor Wynnia.

"Don't answer that," Wynnia cut him off. "I don't care."

He winced at those words, remembering how earlier she had promised anything for his love. How she had made vows of becoming his perfect wife and smiled at him so innocently. This was not Wynnia. This was the void in her heart speaking--a void caused by the absence of Silmeria.

He did this to her. He made her this way by refusing to transfer Silmeria. How could he stop her?

She leaned in to kiss him again.

There were hurried footsteps in the hallway. His eyes looked up, but hers remained focused on him. To Wynnia's anger and to Rufus's great relief, a voice shouted to her, interrupting the intimacy of the moment. "Lady Alicia!" it called. Then there was another. "There's a problem!"

"Bah!" Wynnia barked loudly, stepping away from Rufus for a moment. "It had better be one big damned problem!"

Rufus took this moment to hopefully regain some control over the situation. He stepped away to a safe distance.

Wynnia looked away for a moment, frustrated, and then her eyes lit up in recognition of something. She raised her hand to cover her mouth and glanced back at Rufus, horrified. Had she just coming to her senses about propositioning him?

"Go on," Rufus said.

Wynnia stared at him silently, looking one long last time upon him with disappointment and sadness in her eyes. "Lady Alicia!" the voices continued to insist.

"I'm coming!" she shouted angrily, snapping her head away. Without saying anything more, she opened the door and stepped outside.

Rufus sighed in defeat and crashed into the bed to sit. It wasn't until then that he noticed his hands were shaking and that his heart was beating so quickly he might be sick. He took a moment to calm down, breathing long, deep breaths.

When he was calm again, he could still hear Wynnia yelling at her subordinates from beyond the walls. Frightening as it was, he was relieved to hear cute but angry Wynnia again in place of that demon he had confronted.

There was something undeniably cute about her voice when she was angry, he had to admit. He had rarely seen Alicia so angry. Maybe if Alicia had been given more friends, more time to share that kind of bond... maybe if she had been accepted the way that these people accepted Wynnia, she would be comfortable barking orders this way.

"What can I do to help her?" Rufus asked himself and clapped his hand against his face. "Silmeria... what can I do?"

- - -

Ewald felt someone tugging at his arm, but he was unaware of who it was, nor did he care. Some einherjar. Several of them heard the commotion of his fight and came, only to find Ewald with... _this_.

He stared up at the crystal, paralyzed in the realization of what he had done. That beautiful creature--that perfect woman--he had _killed_ her! He ripped her soul from her body! Why? Her spirit was trapped within a seal that he did not consciously know how to release! And if he did somehow manage release it? She would fade away! The very idea ripped his heart from his chest.

"L-Lenneth..." he moaned weakly as he fell to his knees.

"EWALD!" he heard Wynnia's voice ring throughout the halls. The einherjar who had gathered around him fretting over Lenneth's fate and attempting to help Ewald all jumped in fear and straightened up into a line as if forming ranks. He paid very little attention to this as Wynnia's thundering footsteps grew closer until she was right behind him. "What the _Hel_ did you do?"

Ewald shot up and faced her, stammering in his defense. "I-I didn't mean to!" he pleaded. "I don't know how it happened! It was a reaction!"

"A_reaction_?" Wynnia spat, and then looked up at the helplessly trapped valkyrie. "Killing a valkyrie and putting her soul into a giant crystal is a _reaction_? You can't just go around abducting goddesses!"

"You're one to talk!" Ewald retorted.

"This is different from that!" Wynnia argued back. "I didn't_kill_ him!"

"Please believe me," Ewald begged, falling on his knees. "I did not mean to! I... I think that I..."

Wynnia's expression changed from that of fury to confusion. "Huh?"

Ewald's faced blushed. "I believe that I am in love with this woman," he admitted, shaking as he said it. He covered his face in his hands. "The very sight of her was everything that I have always longed for and yet--" he pulled them away and pounded his fists upon the ground. "I've done _this_ to her!"

He heard the sound of Wynnia clicking her tongue and looked up to see that she was smiling. "Now you finally know how it is for me," she said softly. "Don't worry. As long as she's within that crystal, she's safe."

"But what can we do?" Ewald asked her, looking up into her eyes. "How can I restore her?"

She helped him up and brushed a spot of dust from his cape in a sisterly fashion. "You leave it to me," Wynnia said. "If you want Lenneth Valkyrie as your girlfriend, then I will have to help! It's all that I can do to repay you for your service, Court Mage."

Ewald recovered a bit while she was talking and regained his normal calm composure. What Wynnia was suggesting shocked him a bit--not only because he was surprised that she was being so thoughtful, but also because her idea of "help" scared him.

"Perhaps I shall give you a fiefdom within the kingdom of Dipan," she said, more to herself now than Ewald. "Yes... Duke Ewald and Dutchess Lenneth under Queen Alicia and King Rufus..."

Ewald sighed, heart heavy with guilt. "No thanks."


	8. Forgive and Remember

**Angel Slayer: Chapter 8  
Forgive and Remember**

The throne of Asgard was a place that Freya had avoided if at all possible since Odin's capture up until this point. Rufus had always hated the high and mighty chair, and she could not look upon it herself without remembering everything. Him. Eyes that were kind only when they looked upon her.

But today, the seat was hers and hers alone. She held Gungnir over he knee as Odin often had simply to show off. She, too, liked the authority that its presence gave her. It felt right in her hands--in the hands of a true god.

Matters of state were few and far-between. Trifling arguments between gods that needed to be put down were so swiftly dealt with that their kind hardly bothered to argue any longer. Freya was left with nothing to take her mind off of the kidnapping of her favorite pupil, who she had begun to look at very fondly in her mind. She found that it was much easier to like him when he was not on the throne--and not actually around, at that. She would give him some post that he was suited to and let him go on vacation to his beloved Midgard occasionally and that would make him both happy and useful.

If she could have him back. That was really the point of the matter. Freya would give anything for the power to hold a physical form on Midgard, but even with her power, she could only appear to the sight of demons and other gods. Before, she would have to train the valkyrie each time they were awakened, as they lost their memory. That involved an awkward trip to Midgard. No, she could not go there and smite Alicia, Princess of Dipan herself.

She had so much faith in Lenneth's abilities that when she received the news that the valkyrie had been defeated, she was utterly shocked and had nothing to say for quite some time. After that came seething anger. Who dare lay a hand to Lenneth Valkyrie? First they take her favored young god, and now her favored valkyrie? It was at times like these that Freya seriously considered that perhaps destroying all of Midgard by stealing the Dragon Orb may not have been the worst idea after all.

What had they done to her? Her soul had not been transferred, thus it was still on Midgard. Yet the vessel was free to be inhabited by another valkyrie. Someone was holding Lenneth's spirit.

Who possessed that sort of power? Who could possibly trap not only a living god, but a god's very soul?

She scowled as the answer came to her. That mage. That damned infernal mage from Dipan. He took Odin, he assisted the capture of Rufus, and now he held Lenneth hostage.

He would die, and his death would not be quick.

- - -

The two human inhabitants of Dipan castle spent the following day in deep introspection. Ewald could tell from the way that Wynnia moped about when she believed that no one was looking that things were not going very well with her big catch. He had not bothered to ask Rufus about the results of his experiment, but Wynnia obviously hadn't gotten any. He assumed that the fop had turned out to be a coward and made no attempt at all.

He had bigger things to worry about, however. Since the mishap involving the angelic creature now resting in her crystal coffin, Ewald had thrown himself into his work. It was all that he could do to keep from thinking about her--to keep grief from eating him alive. He was renovating the the old labs in the castle's lower levels into a stratification of experimental test areas more suited for his purposes. He had to find some sort of vessel for the lady valkyrie.

Only elves would prove perfect vessels of the gods. If he could find one, he could put Lenneth's soul into it; but they were incredibly hard to find even in the Forest of Spirits. Even if they had been abundant, he really didn't want to do it if it meant killing anyone. He wasn't sure if putting her soul into an elf would kill them or just make them "share" for a while, but there was no way to test the theory without hurting anyone. Ewald had never considered himself to be very morally upstanding. He had killed before--but only robbers, bandits and the like that he and Wynnia had run into in the course of their travels. People who asked for it got it, that was his motto. Killing an innocent elf was something different altogether.

There was a half-elf, half-human, half-god _whatever_ living in one of the castle's bedroom suites, however. The thought was tempting. Since he was a god, he was probably friends with this valkyrie--she had been trying to free him after all, so he might let her share his body for a little while to keep her from dying. The problem was that Wynnia would kill him; not to mention that _he_ was a _he_ and not very suiting to the beautiful valkyrie. Ewald did not like him very much, anyway. Not that Ewald often liked anyone very much, but that was beside the point.

That would be the back-up plan. What he really needed to try was making her an artificial vessel. That is why he was underneath an old, rusted capsule created to grow monsters, trying his best to remodel it into something that would grow a beautiful vessel.

"Hey in there!" he heard someone shout out. He sat up in alarm only to thunk his head against the cold metal.

"Damn!" he shouted, and slid from underneath the contraption. When he emerged, he saw one of the einherjar smiling at him--a woman with short, wild, brown hair. She was an archer who wore black. "Isn't your name something strange?" he asked her, trying to pull it off of the tip of his tongue. "Two words..."

"Sha-kon," she answered for him.

He nodded and then frowned. "Your name is Sha-kon and you've come to interrupt my delicate work because you find me too irresistibly attractive to stay away," he said. "At least that had better be the case, or else I shall be quite angry."

"Oh, you're cute, but I like bigger men," she laughed. "Alicia asked me to come and assist you with your research. I am an expert in the creation of golems. I can make pretty ones quicte suitable for your iced-up lady friend."

"Hm," Ewald mumbled thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Yes, that's right. I disregarded this information because I believed you all to be con artists, but you did say that you were the famous alchemist and a creator of fine golems."

"I think what you'll be needing here is a homunculus," she explained. "A make-shift half-elf, if you get my meaning."

"Yes," he hummed. "You're correct, but I do not see how such a thing is possible without sacrificing a needless amount of lives in the process."

"We have a half-elf in the house, believe it or not," she said with a smile, holding up her pointer finger to make her point. "All we need is a tissue sample and a proper growing chamber."

"You can help me create this growing chamber?" Lezard asked her, a sly smile growing on his face.

"That's why I came down here," she said, and held out her hand. "But you have to let me patent anything we come up with!"

"Deal," he agreed, and took her hand. After shaking, he used it to pull himself up. "Let's begin. If you handle the alchemic aspects, then I can certainly cover the magical elements."

The two went to work immediately.

- - -

Celes got the feeling that Ewald's plan had not been a very good one. Rufus refused to tell her exactly what happened, he just kept using the words "massive failure" over and over again, stressing them firmly.

"I should have known better than to leave this up to a man," she sighed as she decided what she must do. Confront her arch nemesis and sister, Phyress.

Phyress was a good person, Celes knew this. In life, they had fought each other in the way that all humans end up fighting each other. Peaceful negotiations are refused. Losses are taken on both sides, fueling anger and spite. Celes had lost many close friends, and so had Phyress. Celes lost her life, and Phyress lost her livelihood--her arm, her ability to use her bow. Einherjar--the word means "one army." Celes found herself on the same side as every soldier who had ever lived, including her sister. Their future would be to fight for the world as a whole.

That said, the respect that Celes felt for her sister was second to none. She also understood many of Phyress's shortcomings. She was easily excited, and she loved to meddle. She had adopted a son just for the sake of having a boy to boss around. Funny that the boy had run away, the blood daughter Chrystie chasing after him.

Phyress now tended to Wynnia, who was a reincarnation of Alicia, who carried the same royal blood as they did. Wynnia expressed interest in becoming a princess, and Phyress was estatic. She dressed her, trained her, wrought her into a leader. Wynnia was a better person for what Phyress had done. However... Phyress only fueled that dangerous side of Wynnia's multiplexed idenity, the one that was neither the brave and kind-hearted princess from Dipan, the spunky farm girl from Coriander, or the strict but caring leader that both of these identities had become. What Phyress spoke to when she spoke of Rufus and their love was a void left in the absence of her two soul-mates, an anti-Alicia if you will.

Celes entered the royal bedroom where Alicia's parents once slept, as did Celes and Phyress's parents, once upon a time. Wynnia slept here now in the bed that was far too large for just one person. Today, in the mid-morning, Wynnia laid sprawled across the blankets on her belly, still wearing her pajamas. Phyress sat behind her, brushing her long ash-blonde hair. Chrystie was also there, and for that, Celes was glad.

Phyress looked up at her sister as she entered. Celes nodded in greeting. Wynnia remained staring directly ahead of herself. "Foul mood," Celes noted.

Phyress smiled up at Celes in sympathy as well as a touch of amusement. "Rufus rejected her again," she said. "Just when things were getting good, she says."

"He kissed my cheek," Wynnia sighed, cupping her palm lovingly to the side of her face. "But I'm so horrible..."

"You're never going to win the heart of a man you keep in a cage like a pet bird," Celes explained, then looked up at her sister. "Phyress, you can't possibly think that this is still a good idea..."

"I don't know what to say," Phyress answered and petted Wynnia's head tenderly. "I really thought that Rufus would leap at the chance to be with her again. That idiot..."

"You can't simply throw two people into a locked room and expect things to come out for the better," Celes scolded her. "Please be reasonable. You must release Sir Rufus from his prison."

Chrystie appeared behind Celes, as she had anticipated. "I think that would be best as well," she agreed. "The barrier was supposed to be temporary..."

"But what if he leaves?" Phyress retorted, a bit of anger in her tone. "That idiot is so bent on living his life out lonely for Alicia's sake that he doesn't even realize what he's doing to her!"

"It's okay," Wynnia sighed, sitting up. "Celes is right." She sat up in the bed and hugged her legs to her chest. "After what I've done, I'm too embarrassed to see him again. He won't want to see me either. And if I do see him... I will lose control of myself again. I'll be driven to do something... _crazy_ again."

"Crazy?" Celes asked, eyebrows raising in curiosity behind the visor of her helmet.

Wynnia sighed. "I told him," she began. "I said... that I didn't care if he loved me if he would just..." She hid her face behind her hand. "What is wrong with me? What is this voice inside of me? I want him to love me more than anything, and nothing more! Why would I say such a thing?"

"I fear the worst for you," Celes replied. "Rufus may yet possess the power to heal you--or maybe it is Silmeria who has that power."

"Let him go," Wynnia whimpered behind her hands. "Do it for me, Celes. Tell him that I say goodbye... and wish him well."

Phyress wrapped her arms around the girl as she hid her face. Wynnia was not crying. Wynnia said that Alicia had finished with crying long ago when she had become stronger. But still, her body shook with the motions of sobs without releasing a single tear or sound.

"As you wish," Celes replied.

- - -

Once more, the lock to Rufus's door clicked, heralding a visitor. Who would it be this time? What manner of humiliation would he be put through today? Would he live through the encounter with his body unharmed--or more like unsoiled? This was getting old fast.

Thankfully, it was Celes, by herself. She opened the door, and then shoved it wide with her armored boot, leaving the doorway free and clear for him to exit without being popped or zapped or anything. He stood up and blinked at her. "What's going on?"

"You are free to go," she replied. "To wherever you wish to go."

"Where is Alicia?" he asked her. "I mean... Wynnia."

"Avoiding you," Celes responded bluntly "She says goodbye and fare thee well."

Rufus eyed the doorway suspiciously. "Did I piss her off?" he asked Celes, studying her unreadable face.

Celes smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't know, since you wouldn't tell me what happened between the two of you."

Rufus's expression flattened in dismay as he recalled the previous night. "Massive. Failure."

"Are you going or not?" she asked him tiredly. "I'm getting quite tired of standing here."

"I'm going!" Rufus answered quickly, hurrying through the door. "I'm going already!"

- - -

Freya frowned deeply as she looked up at her two remaining options. Hrist and Silmeria Valkyrie slept in their recooperative crystal constructs which hovered gently in midair, much like Freya herself.

Hrist was risky, but Silmeria was still completely out of the question. That left the decision already made, though she did not like it. Before giving herself time to back down, she went through with it and decided to awaken Hrist Valkyrie.

The crystal shattered into shimmering light. Hrist, decked in the darkest violets, spread her wings and knelt upon the ground. Freya took this as a good sign at least, but Hrist was not introducing herself. She remained there, silent. Freya approached her gently. "Hrist Valkyrie," she said. "Tell me what you remember."

Hrist lifted her head up slowly, so that her golden eyes could be seen underneath the helm adorned with black raven feathers. She spoke just as slowly, carefully. "A good luck charm," she replied.

"Good luck... charm?" Freya responded in confusion. She lowered herself to her feet to stand upon the floor at Hrist's level as the valkyrie stood up. She watched as Hrist looked absently at her left hand as if she was just as confused. "What about Lord Odin?"

Hrist looked up, distracted from her examination of her hand by this. "I..." she started, unsure, and then continued in a tone that was much more Hrist-like. "I serve the einherjar who follow me," she said forcefully. "If Odin's goals are to prevent the destruction of Ragnorok, then I will serve him. However... if he merely wishes to conquer and destroy Midgard, then I will not comply with his orders."

Freya frowned. That answer meant that getting Hrist to obey her would be rather dependant on how she handled the situation. "Odin is no more in any case," she explained.

"I am sorry to hear that," Hrist answered, honest regret in her voice. "Our ideals may have differed at the end, but he was a great ruler for many centuries."

"It is behind us," Freya said. "I am now the ruler of Asgard." Hrist's expression seemed to lighten at this news. For this, Freya was thankful. "My mission for you is a strange one," she went on. "However, it is of the upmost importance."

"I am ready to hear it," Hrist prompted her. Freya had paused considering just what she should say. Hrist would never kill Alicia, who she had sided with and eventually merged with--she would sooner kill her own sister. The old Hrist might have done it, but Silmeria had won her to her side. "A god was captured and taken from Asgard," Freya explained. "He is currently being held captive by a group of imposters pretending to the throne in Dipan. I want you to bring him back to us safely."

"Who is this god?" Hrist asked. "How could he be captured by mortals?"

"He's a new... _young_ god," she explained carefully. "You have not met him... at least not as a god... he was once a mortal, you see..."

Hrist's expression flattened. "Who?" she demanded, as if she anticipated the name.

"Rufus," she replied. "He retrieved Gungnir from Lezard Valeth's world, and claimed the power of a god."

Hrist lifted her arm and covered her face in chagrin. "Fool..." she groaned, and then in annoyance answered, "Yes, I will go and retrieve him."

She turned to look behind her. Freya watched her examine the crystal holding Silmeria. "Why did you not send Silmeria, if this is the case?" she asked. "Silmeria was quite close to Rufus."

"Because," Freya said in a low tone. "The one who captured him... was Princess Alicia of Dipan."

Hrist's eyes widened. "What?" she spat. "That is impossible!" Her left hand, the one she had been staring so intently at a moment ago, clenched into a fist. "Alicia died along with the rest of us! She gave her life to protect all of our worlds from destruction!"

"Yes, she is alive again, and has grown wicked and crazed," Freya said. "You may choose not to believe me, but I warn you... she possesses a sword capable of slaying the gods. Her group has already subdued Lenneth Valkyrie, who I sent before awakening you."

"What have they done to Lenneth?" Hrist gasped. "And she has not returned via transfer? How can that be?"

"The soul of Lezard Valeth also persists," Freya answered in a grave voice. "He and the princess of Dipan work hand-in-hand."

"Lezard must have tainted her soul somehow!" Hrist announced angrily, clenching both fists now. "I'll kill him... and I'll bring Rufus and Alicia to Asgard!"

"Yes, that is your mission," Freya agreed, going with that idea.

Hrist knelt once more. "I will not fail you." With that promise, she flew out of the room in a flash of violet light.

Once she found herself alone, Freya's face slowly turned from a scowl into a smirk. "Yes," she said to herself, laughing softly. "Yes, Hrist. Bring Alicia here along with Rufus if you so wish... then I will claim the pleasure of killing her with my own hands."

- - -

It had rained again the night before, just after the incident with Rufus and then with Ewald. Wynnia had been so caught up in Ewald's valkyrie situation that it wasn't until later than night that she began to really consider what she had done. That was how she got by. She put aside things that bothered her until there was time enough to deal with them.

Wynnia kicked a rock in the courtyard and watched it plunk into a puddle. Things weren't supposed to have turned out this way. Celes had returned from her task, saying that she had set Rufus free. Outside the magical barrier, he had probably transported himself back to Asgard by now. Freya was probably sitting on his lap feeding him grapes or something like that by this time.

How could she had hoped to compete with Alicia? Alicia had died at eighteen, making her eternally young. Wynnia tried to hide it, but she was twenty-eight, not eighteen. She had spent the last ten years pathologically obsessed with everything about Alicia and her adventures. She supposed they should be called ordeals rather than adventures. They had been painful. Wynnia could feel it. She could feel the stabbing pain in her heart whenever she recalled the remorseful expression in Hrist's eyes, and the betrayal that she felt when Lezard's intentions were proven. She remembered how her heart fluttered whenever Rufus was happy enough to laugh despite all of their hardships. She remembered the warmth of Silmeria's place in her heart--an space that was now cold and empty.

Rufus made it better. Being near him, she felt filled up in some way that she had never known before. He was everything that she remembered and more. The problem was that she wanted too much of him. She wanted_all_ of him. Something reached out from her heart to grab him and never let him go every time.

Better that he was gone. She really was crazy. He drove her crazy because she loved him far too much.

"I don't need them!" she said loudly, though there was no one to convince but herself present. She once again wore her night gown; it was comfortable and her favorite thing to wear. She thrust her sword, Angel Slayer, in front of herself. A lot of good it was now, without much god-slaying to do. All she had gotten out of the entire ordeal was a kiss. One really nice kiss, but just one. Oh, and a displaced valkyrie spirit to keep in the basement, but that was more Ewald's bounty. Yeah... a real lot of good it had done for him, too.

"I really don't need them!" she said again, slashing. It didn't matter because he was gone, back in Asgard now. Freya would give him a nice foot rub and make him dinner. "I don't care!" she shouted. She just wanted Rufus to be happy, if she could not. She loved him.

"I don't need Silmeria, I don't need Rufus, I don't need love or companionship or happiness, I just need--" she swung wildly, "--this sword!"

"Hey!" she heard a yelp. She realized she had been holding her eyes shut. When she opened them and faced down, she saw a lock of green hair curled up on the stone at her feet like a caterpillar. She half expected it to inch its way out of there because it couldn't possibly be what she really wanted it to be. The same voice laughed. "Watch where you're swinging that thing. You know that if you hit me with it, I'm a goner, right?"

Wynnia still stood frozen, poised with the sword held out at a wild angle. She looked up, her eyes wide in disbelief. It was definitely Rufus. "Why are you still here?" she asked breathlessly.

He shifted his weight and frowned. "Relax, would you?" he said, placing his hands on his hips. Wynnia noticed that he was wearing different clothing. "It's not like in a huge hurry to go back to Asgard, you know. Thanks to you, I had to hand Gungnir over to Freya, and I swear, she makes you look like a real kitten when_she's_ angry." He looked up, scratching his head, and chuckled awkwardly. "She's never propositioned me, though."

"I-I didn't mean to do that!" Wynnia stammered, blushing and swinging the sword again, an unintentional side effect of her nervous jump this time. Rufus backed up in alarm, holding his hands up defensively. "It's your stupid fault, you know!"

"What?" he balked. "How is that _my_ fault?"

"You're just too..." Wynnia began, and stopped herself. "Well... anyway..." she held the sword's handle in both hands, clutching it to her chest while she looked down at the ground again. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. Then abruptly, she kneeled on the ground. "Please forgive me!" she said. "I've done terrible things!"

"H-hey--what? Get up off the ground, you weirdo," he groaned, folding his arms over his chest.

"Hey, that's not very nice to say!" Wynnia responded, only half-rising, stopping on her knees. She smiled coyly and began to poke the tips of her fingers together. "Couldn't you ever do something romantic, like give me your hand... or maybe kneel down here and give me a kiss... and say 'all is forgiven, darling'?" She even imitated his voice with the last suggestion.

"You just don't know when to stop!" he grumbled, turning the other direction. He threw his arms up in the air. "Where did you get that 'darling' crap from?"

"Ewald says nice things like that," Wynnia retorted, hopping up to her feet. "He's a gentleman!"

Rufus chuckled again. "Why aren't you throwing yourself at _him_ then?"

"I am not throwing myself at you!" she objected and then did just that, slapping at his shoulders open-palmed. "At least not today, I am trying really hard not to and you don't appreciate it at all!"

Rufus caught her hand and held it still. He resisted pulling her to him, which she was thankful for. She wasn't sure that she could suppress herself if he really did try to hold her. She wanted him to all the same. "Just be yourself," he said to her, returning her arms by placing them over her chest. "Can we try that?"

"I'm afraid," she said.

His eyes softened in concern, though she did not see them. Her face remained turned down. "Of what?"

"Myself," she answered.


	9. Forget Me Not

**Angel Slayer: Chapter 9  
Forget Me Not**

The einherjar were instructed by their captain, the one who most of them looked up to in the absence of Wynnia--Phyress, well-known princess of Dipan and former queen of Paltia--to be extra careful not to upset Wynnia today, and if possible to treat her nicely. She had sent the begrudging Seluvia out to find a decent bouquet so that he might make a decent attempt at serenading her upon his return. Chrystie had gone with him to Solde hoping to find chocolates to offer as sacrifice to Wynnia's broiling rage--something they soon would all be face to face with, certainly.

And what would Phyress do? She rubbed her head, frowning deeply at the headache forming just behind her eyes. This was so stressful. It had been a long time since Phyress had raised a child, and this was a very different situation. Wynnia wasn't a child at all, but a deeply troubled young woman. She had been so certain that love would be the thing to heal her, and that Rufus had more than ample love to share with her.

She felt the sheer extent of it long ago when Rufus joined her and her cohorts temporarily in the career of einharjar. He was jittery with inexperience, unlike the rest of them who had been collected by Silmeria some time before Alicia had ever been born. He was unable to keep his own feelings from brimming over. That is when Phyress had felt the extent of his feelings for Alicia, stronger than any romance she had known in life. It was the sort of thing that Seluvia would sing about in one of his dumb songs.

"What is that idiot _thinking_?!" she griped aloud, though there was no one in the hall to effectively gripe at. "There was supposed to be this one fabulous reunion scene and then presto, everything is right again!"

She slumped her shoulders as she felt the presence of someone tall in the hallway appear behind her. She recognized the heavy footfalls of an armored soldier and the shadow of a plumed helmet against the wall. "You're always messing things up for me," she muttered to her sister.

Celes responded in an amused tone, and Phyress failed to see how it suited the situation. "Aren't you just upset that you've botched this up?" she chuckled. "Come with me, I'll show you something."

- - -

"Are you hungry?" Wynnia asked as she led Rufus to the kitchen. She was intent on grabbing something to eat herself.

"No, I'm good, thanks," Rufus replied, and took a seat to wait for her while she prepared her own snack. "The first thing I did when I escaped was stuff my face until I was full--then I washed off and changed my clothes. I feel one hundred percent now."

Wynnia had just picked up a knife with which to cut a tomato into slices. She opened her mouth wide and pointed the blade at him menacingly. "You mean to tell me that you did all of that while I was _worrying_ about you so?"

"Sorry,_darling_," he teased her. "When you lock a guy in a room for three days, he starts to prioritize things a little differently."

"But you're a god," Wynnia replied as she lowered the knife and began to cut. The tomato was little match for her swift blade. "You shouldn't have to eat or bathe!"

"I get plenty hungry," he replied. "And I was starting to smell."

They were joined in the kitchen by Celes and Phyress. The warrior had a knowing smirk on her face, while the archer stared at them both, her mouth hanging slack-jawed. "W-what the heck is going on?" she stammered, pointing his finger accusingly at Rufus. "I thought he went back to Valhalla!"

Rufus stared up at her blank-faced. "Why would I be in any hurry to do that? Freya's just going to chew me out when I get back."

Phyress swiftly pulled out the chair in front of Rufus and sat down in it, bending over the table to peer at him in scrutiny. "So, are you going to marry Alicia now?"

Rufus began to choke on something invisible as she said that. "What? No!"

Wynnia saw his reaction and ceased her wonton chopping. "Leave him alone, Phyress," she said, looking down at all of the murdered vegetables now aligned on her plate. "The two of us are going to be... _friends_ for now. Yes, that's right." To say these words caused her heart to ache, but she knew that it was best. She was afraid of what might stir there if she allowed herself to admit how much love she felt. Even through the afternoon's playful arguments, she found herself wanting him more and more. It wasn't just Alicia who wanted him anymore; every part of her was falling more deeply in love with him each time he spoke.

Rufus appeared to sense the discomfort in her response, but failed to say anything. Phyress frowned bitterly. "I would speak to you outside, _sir_," she grumbled at him.

"Phyress, please!" Wynnia objected, returning to the table with her salad.

Rufus rose up as she sat. "It's okay," he said with a smile and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Eat your food, I'll be back in a few."

Wynnia nodded and watched him leave the room with Phyress, who seemed awfully unhappy with his behavior. Celes remained, but only stood silently next to the table. Now that she had her food, Wynnia suddenly wasn't as hungry as she had previously been. This was the first time since discovering that Rufus was not gone after all that he had been out of her sight. It took every bit of self-control that she had to keep from shooting up from the table and rushing outside to make certain that he was still there. _Calm down_, she thought. _If you want Rufus to love you, then you have to control this terrible urge! _

She looked into her plate and began to push the chunks of vegetable about idle-minded while she focused on the place on her shoulder that still tingled in the wake of his touch. Was it wishful thinking to suspect him of consciously stealing these little touches? As much as she hoped this was true, she wished that he would refrain, for his sake.

- - -

"What are you _doing_?" Phyress nagged at him as soon as they were into the hallway and safely out of hearing distance.

"I could have asked you that!" Rufus retorted, just as annoyed by her behavior as of late. "Throwing me into jail when I was begging you for help! Some friend!"

Phyress scowled and her eyes became furious. "I _thought_ that you would thank me!" she answered. "I've finally managed to bring you back together and you're screwing around with all of this nonsense! Why?"

"Are you aware of what she tried to do to me?" Rufus spouted. "That's not normal! She's er... unhealthy, somehow!"

Phyress only growled louder. "All she did was come on to you, you wuss! What kind of man thinks that's a _bad_ thing?"

Rufus relaxed at that, the anger and annoyance fading out of his posture and his tone. "I thank you for the sentiment at least, really," he said. "And... if you would do me one more service, I'd ask something else from you."

Phyress returned this with scrutiny, suspicious of his sudden change in disposition. "What is it?" she asked him warily.

Rufus smiled. "I've heard that there's a concoction that alchemists in Flenceburg have created. The gods were all upset about it. Crazy mages whipped it up in the form of an ale."

"Magic ale?" Phyress laughed. "That sounds like my kind of potion."

"Yeah," Rufus went on, testing her good humor. "It's called Ale of Forgetfulness."

"Forgetfulness?" she scowled again. "I'm not liking where this is going, Rufus."

"I've been thinking about it, and it might just be the only way," he said, and began to explain excitedly with several lofty hand gestures. "The potion creates a seal on a person's memories just like the one put in place when a person is reborn. They retain the same basic traits, but they effectively become a new person."

Phyress once again was enraged. "And you would give this to Wynnia?" she shouted, not at all concerned with who might hear her. "That is despicable! What manner of monster has the land of Asgard turned you into, Rufus?"

"No!" Rufus argued, making motions with his hands urging her to calm herself. "It's for me, Phyress."

"_What?_" Phyress stopped and her arms dropped down to her sides as she stared at Rufus in disbelief. "Why in the realms would you do a thing like that? You'd forget about Alicia--the valkyries--about us and what we struggled for--everything!"

"I know," he sighed. "I know that. But... I think it's only fair."

"Fair?"

"Yes." Rufus took a step towards Phyress, closing the space she had created when she misunderstood him. "I want it to be as if I had died with her."

Phyress had never switched from vehement anger to deepest sympathy so quickly before. "You _idiot_," she whimpered. "Why would you do that?"

"I'll regret losing my memories about Alicia, even though they are painful to me," he said. "I'll even regret forgetting about Freya and everyone I've met since then. Ha... Someone will have to tell her for me, and extend my apologies. But..." He sighed. "I have only two goals in this life. The first is to make sure that the world is safe, and that Asgard's rule is fair. With Freya on the throne, I am certain that has been accomplished. She has changed a lot since Odin disappeared, and I have faith in her now. That only leaves one thing for me to do."

"And what is that?" Phyress asked.

"I have to make certain that Alicia's new life--Wynnia's life--is as content as it can possibly be," he answered. "I thought that by staying away from her, I might allow her to remain oblivious and she could be happy, but that isn't the case. Drawing away has only made her heart blacken somehow. If what she wants is me, then I'll give myself to her. I'd even sacrifice my memories of Alicia, if that is what I must do to truly love her and make her happy."

"Are you insane?" Phyress asked, her voice hushed. "You would throw that away?"

"It isn't like I'll ever forget it completely," he replied. "Memories always remain with the soul. Wynnia has remembered, so maybe I will, too. What's important is that I'll be able to start a new life--the new life that I should have started if I had died like I was supposed to."

"That isn't the way you move on!" Phyress retorted, and then bit her tongue. Of course it was easy for her to say. She had never felt anything as powerful as that wave that hit her from Rufus's heart on that day, overturning everything in its path. She tensed her shoulders and then forced herself to relax. "Very well," she said. "I will acquire this concoction for you."

Rufus took Phyress's nimble little hands into his and shook them vigerously in thanks and agreement, grinning from ear to ear. "You won't be sorry!" he said. "I promise that when I'm reborn, I'll be everything that Wynnia could ever want!"

"I hope so," Phyress sighed. She turned in the hallway and grumbled to herself as she left Rufus there. "What they should really make is an Ale of Good Sense..."

- - -

Rufus returned to the kitchen and was greeted by a cheery smile from Wynnia. She opened her mouth to welcome him excitedly and looked as if she might rise from the table; then she closed it fast and remained seated. He returned her smile as he pulled up a chair, but had to force it. It probably looked too sad to pass, he thought. She was trying so hard to hold herself back, to keep herself from being clingy or forceful.

"Almost done?" he asked her. Her food was only half gone, but she was already picking at it.

"I guess so," she answered. "Why? Are you waiting?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I thought you could give me a tour of the place--let me see what you've been up to. What are you planning to do with Dipan, anyway?"

Wynnia smiled brightly again, flattered by his interest in her work. "I am going to make Dipan into a great nation again!" she explained excitedly. "We have already purified the undead, and someday when the city is repaired... I will invite everyone to come back to their homeland. Even new people who are poor and have no place to go will be welcome here."

"That's a lofty goal," Rufus said. "But... an admirable one, at least."

"Do you think so?" Wynnia answered joyfully.

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. "I'm glad to see that you are using your power for other things aside from kidnapping gods."

Wynnia turned her nose up in distaste, but the color of her cheeks revealed her embarrassment. "I wish you would just let that go," she complained.

Rufus laughed even more loudly. "Sure, I'll just forget that you threatened to kill me in front of Freya!"

Wynnia pouted. "I wouldn't have really done it, you know," she said regretfully.

"Yeah," he replied in a sympathetic tone. "It's okay, I know."

But this was a lie, because he wasn't sure. In that moment, she might have killed them both opting for a chance at rebirth rather than to let Freya have him. He wasn't sure how much of that he could attribute to Wynnia herself, or even if he would have disagreed. To die might not be so bad.

"I am concerned about one thing," he said, trailing off into a different subject. "Freya swore vengeance on you, and it isn't like her to give up. Only one valkyrie can be here at a time--but still... we should have heard from them by now, shouldn't we?"

Wynnia's eyes darted to the side and she began to mutter. "Err..."

Rufus's contented expression deflated in disbelief even though he should have expected this. "What did you do?" he asked her flatly.

"Well," Wynnia replied in a delicate manner that was acted out rather badly. "How about that tour then?"

- - -

"I don't believe I am seeing this," Rufus groaned and smacked his palm into his face.

He recognized the area that Wynnia had so casually labeled the "basement" as the secret experimental chambers of the late King Barbarossa's squad of mages. It had been cleaned well and lights put in place to make it slightly less dank and eerie. The mossy growth and vinery had been plucked away, the muck polished off of everything, and old tomes organized carefully by diligent hands; but all that he could remember were horrible things--the smell of chemicals, cold damp air, and the sound of the king's hand slapping hard against his daughter's face. Despite the effort put into making this dark corner of the castle presentable, they could never wipe those things away.

Now, in the library room at the back of the labs, behind the corridor filled with testing chambers, in the very place where Rufus had once found the ghoul powder with which to change Alicia's form; there was one object which made all of these discomforts seem incredibly minor. Hanging in the unused doorway at the back of the room was a crystalline structure of a sort that Rufus knew all too well. With the image of this valkyrie more than any other came a rush of hopelessness and regret--the memories of the last night he had fought alongside Alicia.

He tried to pass it off as mere chagrin. "Don't tell me..."

Ewald strode gracefully underneath the crystal which contained Lenneth Valkyrie and sneered back at Rufus. "Well it isn't my fault," he scoffed. "It just... happened."

"You used the Sovereigns Rite!" Wynnia barked at him.

Ewald's grasp on his cool mentality broke again and he wailed. "Aside from what I've read recently in the old king's books, I'm not even sure what that is!"

"This scares me on way too many levels," Rufus groaned, rubbing his head. "First off, Ewald's sudden infatuation with Lenneth Valkyrie--it's bad. It's _really_ bad."

Ewald opened his mouth wide, taking offense at this. "Sir Rufus!" he exclaimed. "How can you _not_ be infatuated by her?" He turned and clasped his hands to the crystal lovingly. "She is the essence of everything desirable in women..."

"Oh_really_?" Rufus snarked. "Didn't she try to kill you? What about patience and gentleness and modesty? What about innocence? A chick tries to kill you, and you're all..."

"Excited about it," Wynnia finished for him. Excited was definitely one way to put it.

"Over-rated," Ewald replied flatly, pushing his glasses onto the ridge of his nose. "You have no taste. Delicate, maidenly women are so boring. A novice like you should forget about Wynnia and find a woman who can teach you a few things. Wynnia may appear to be a wild one, but she really has no idea of how to please a man. The sex is going to be horrible, I suggest you get out while you still can."

"_What_ did you say?" Wynnia snarled, sliding the sword's blade underneath Ewald's chin.

"Ah!" Ewald grinned sheepishly. "I didn't mean it the way that it sounded, of course!" he lied.

Wynnia slowly released him and returned her attention to Rufus. "What else is bothering you?"

"Aside from _that_," Rufus went on, having selectively blocked out Ewald's commentary for the moment. "The Sovereign's Rite is a spell of the highest order. It's named that for a reason--only Odin should be able to use it. The mages in Dipan went to great lengths and prepared for years in order to pull it off just once, and it took three of them together. Lezard was only able to use it on his own at will after assimilating Odin's soul. Ewald may have Lezard's spirit, but he's no god..."

"You're right," Wynnia agreed, and joined Rufus in staring at Ewald in scrutiny.

"Would the two of you stop staring at me as if I'm some sort of animal exhibit?" he complained while smoothing out his hair and straightening his glasses elf-consciously.

Wynnia quickly moved on. "It doesn't matter, because what's done is done. We have to find a way to fix it now."

"I suppose," Rufus sighed. "So what can we do?"

Ewald cleared his throat and began to explain. "Sha-kon and I are beginning experiments to create a vessel for her without compromising the lives of either elves or humans."

That made a smile crack on Rufus's face. "What a relief!" he said in a huge breath of exhaled air. "To hear that you at least have respect for life really takes a load off of my mind."

"I'm not a _monster_," Ewald replied, slighted by his disbelief. "We may need a sample from you though, Sir Half-elf."

"Er," Rufus groaned, "what _kind_ of a sample?"

"Tissue," Ewald replied. "Just a scrape from the inside of your cheek, that's all. I uh... I swear."

"Well, sure..." he replied reluctantly. "I don't suppose it could make things worse..."

"Glad to hear it," Ewald answered to that, nodding enthusiastically. "Now, if you don't mind, we have much more to do before we can begin. I'll call for you when we are ready."

"Can't wait," Rufus grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

Wynnia, in contrast, smiled and was excited. "It should be interesting if we can wake her up!" she said in a cheerful voice. "Perhaps we can convince the lady valkyrie to join our cause!"

"Maybe if it was Silmeria..." Rufus answered. "As for Lenneth... I have no idea."

Ewald shook his head. "Now, now, Wynnia," he chided her. "I thought that you believed all goddesses to be arrogant and wicked."

"Valkyries don't count!" she replied, placing her hand on her hips indignantly. "At least not Silmeria..."

Rufus laughed at that response from her. "Well, this place is giving me the creeps," he said, eager to be gone from the bowels of the castle. "Why don't we resume that tour?"

Wynnia quickly agreed to this, and they left Ewald to his own devices. Rufus doubted that this was a particularly good idea, but they couldn't sit on a valkyrie spirit forever without expecting some sort of response from Asgard. In what form, he wondered? Another valkyrie?

He hoped this time that it would be Silmeria.

- - -

That night Rufus was invited to join the einherjar for dinner, which he most gladly did. A long table in the kitchen was set up, filled to capacity with noisy einherjar. The quieter ones were present, but kept to themselves in the corners of the room. Wynnia and Rufus sat at one end next to an empty chair that was normally reserved for Ewald. The young mage was too busy with his all-important work to be bothered by such a thing as dinner. Rufus noted the absence of Phyress, Chrystie, Seluvia, and even Dyn, and could only conclude that they had left as a party to fulfill his request.

"Where is Seluvia?" Wynnia asked loudly with a pout, a chicken leg in her hand. "For once, I'd actually like for him to play some music for us!"

Celes, who stood even as she ate like some sort of sentinel. "He has gone on some errand with Phyress," she explained. Wynnia took this at face value and began to tear into her chicken.

After ravishing the entire piece and setting aside the bone, she sipped her water delicately and then looked to Celes. "Isn't there any other einherjar who can play?" she asked.

"I doubt it," Celes chuckled darkly. "Why, may I ask?"

Wynnia pursed her lips in frustration. "I thought that we could have a party," she answered, "in celebration of Rufus's staying here!"

"You don't need music for a party," Rufus chuckled. "Just some food and wine, am I right?" This last part garnered a round of cheers from many of the einherjar who hadn't even heard the rest of the statement.

Wynnia released a lofty sigh as the dinner did become a party all around her at the very mention. Any excuse to drink was a good one for einherjar. "But without music there can't be any dancing," she said to herself.

Rufus pretended not to hear her. He had never learned to dance, finding the entire practice pointless and silly. When he thought of dancing with Alicia, it changed his attitude completely. It made for an innocent excuse to touch her and hold her. To dance with Wynnia was also inviting, but seemed somehow betraying to both Alicia and Wynnia herself.

He wished that Pyress would return soon. Then he would be with Alicia in death, and Wynnia would be with the new "Rufus" in life, and everything would be solved. Rufus could only take comfort in the fact that he at least had a plan.

- - -

**Note:**The Ale of Forgetfulness is used in the Volsung Saga to make the valkyrie Brunnhilde's lover Sigfried forget who she was and marry another woman, which leads to major tragedy. XD Moral of the story: don't cheat on a valkyrie. They will kill you and your children.

**Another Note:** I don't know how this fic turned out this way, but I just keep plugging along with it. It seems that I have lost the fuel of the first few chapters, but hopefully more plot twists can get the fire going again. Or, you'll just have to stop reading out of boredom. XD I will not hold this against you.


	10. Feisty, Aren't You?

**Angel Slayer  
Chapter 10: Feisty, Aren't You?**

Dipan grew more comfortable with every passing moment. The more natural it felt, the more guilt weighed on his shoulders. Was he really going to leave Freya to her own devices? Was it really what Alicia would have wanted or just his way of running away from responsibility? He laughed bitterly as he thought that this was awfully similar to the ordeal with the ghoul powder. She gulped it down in spite of his dilemma. He wished that Phyress would return with that potion before he had too long to think about it.

It wasn't as if there were that many memories he cherished enough to keep aside from those concerning Alicia, anyway. He was going to forget everything about Freya, the only person who had come anywhere near befriending him these past decades, but he didn't suppose that would matter to anyone but him. Freya wasn't really alone the way that he was. Where he would have been lonely without her, she did not even know what loneliness was. She had a whole realm full of her own kind who recognized her as queen and loved her. Even if it was Alicia's will that he returned to Asgard, Freya wouldn't want him there and he no longer had Gungnir in any case.

And what if Alicia would want him to stay with Wynnia? Most his time in Dipan since being freed had been spent with Wynnia. She was impossibly cute but dangerous, forceful and yet somehow shy. It was hard to believe that he was actually starting to like the crazy woman who abducted him, but that was exactly what was happening. He liked her a little too much to simply describe it as "a lot." He dared admit to himself that if not for being reminded of Alicia every time that they were face to face that he would be very much in love with her.

But, eventually Wynnia decided to let him free of his leash for a while, hoping not to smother him. He wasn't feeling smothered at all, and that was the strangest thing; but he went off on his own deciding it best for Wynnia's state of mind. He found himself pacing about in the courtyard, which was sunny today. There were no puddles and everything was lively and green.

_Was_ being a key word. As soon as the thought crossed his mind that, wow, there was quite a lot of plant life around--there was a flash in the sky that tinted everything violet for a moment. When it receded, there was a figure glad in black standing before him--a woman in heavy armor wearing a helmet adorned with raven feathers. She looked entirely out of place in the woodsy setting, or maybe in this world altogether. Her sharp piercing eyes of gold seemed to glare at him just as they had years ago, as if she was watching him from a memory.

"Er... Hrist?" Rufus stammered, sure that he was hallucinating. As realization sunk in, his hopes were crushed. Of course, Lenneth was taken out and so another valkyrie had come. Freya would not send Silmeria, who may be the key to Wynnia's cure. He wondered if she was too weak to come out yet, or if Freya simply distrusted her.

Still, that was no reason to meet Hrist with animosity. There were times in the past when he hated Hrist. She had allowed herself to be used as a pawn and caused Alicia incredible agony. Even when they had joined sides and Alicia extended her forgiveness to the valkyrie, he was unable to do any more than tolerate her presence. Time in Asgard had taught him to understand her kind. The reason why Rufus would not transfer Hrist is because she, most of all, needed to retain her memories. She needed to remember how she had changed. If she could do that, then Rufus would befriend her just as he had Freya.

It would all depend on what she said. He stood nervously, waiting for her response. The expression he found in Hrist's eyes was one so foreign to her that he became uncertain of her identity. She was looking at him with something like admiration. "You _are_ Hrist, aren't you?" he asked her.

"Rufus!" she exclaimed all at once and rushed at him. He thought for a moment that she might attack him, but she did not hold a weapon. Her armor crashed into him rather painfully, knocking his breath out as she threw her arms around his chest and squeezed him as hard as she could. "Oh, Rufus, you're alive!" She froze up mid-sentence, posture stiffening. Her eyes opened wide in confusion as if she'd just suddenly woken up from a horrible dream. "What am I _doing_?" she uttered in disgust, looking at her own arms around Rufus. Rufus would have liked to second that question, but he was rather unable to breath at the moment.

This awkward reunion was interrupted by a shriek of unbridled rage. Wynnia dashed into the scene roaring like a lion, "Get _away_ from him!" and holding up Angel Slayer threateningly.

Hrist promptly dropped Rufus, who she had lifted an inch or two off of the ground with her bear hug, and stepped away, puzzling at this girl who was so similar in appearance to Alicia. "Disgusting..." she muttered under her breath as she held her arms out to her sides as if embracing Rufus had left her covered in mud.

Wynnia grabbed Rufus firmly by the wrist and stepped between him and Hrist. She shook the sword tauntingly in Hrist's direction. Rufus thought that she looked like she was about to beat someone with it rather than use it as the elegant weapon that it was. "You stay away from him!" she demanded. "He's mine now! You goddesses can't be putting your hands on him, or I'll cut you, do you hear me?"

Hrist was understandably confused and Rufus couldn't help but feel somewhat sympathetic, even if he should really be confused if anyone was. She grimaced deeply and stepped back into a defensive position, still without going for her own weapon. "I don't _want_ him, you loon!" she retorted.

To this, Wynnia's mouth dropped open wide in shock and offense. "Why not?" she spat. "My Rufus is _very_ desirable!"

"Would you calm down?" Rufus groaned, whipping his hand out of her grasp.

Wynnia turned on him like a rattlesnake. "And _you_!" she hissed. "I saw you touching her!"

Rufus sputtered. "What? I was not!"

Wynnia pointed her finger at him threateningly, and all things considered, he was just glad that it wasn't the sword. "You were rubbing all over her backside!"

"Oh gods," Hrist groaned, and leaned over as if suffering from nausea. "I think I'm going to be sick..."

"You're imagining things, you crazy--" Rufus began in his defense, but he was cut off abruptly.

"I told you never to call me crazy!" Wynnia shouted in a high-pitched voice that hurt his ears.

Rufus took a deep breath, defeated. "Please, let her explain why she's come."

Hrist straightened up again. "My mission is to kill a mage who Freya claims is the reincarnation of Lezard, and drag you, Sir Rufus, back to Asgard. However, I see that you are not being held against your will... could it be that you ran away?"

"I didn't run," Rufus answered. "It's true that I was captured, but I'm working things out here. Freya should have Gungnir now, right? What does she need me for?"

"I honestly haven't the slightest," Hrist said in a haughty tone. "You and Alicia should return to Asgard with me."

"No way!" Wynnia retorted. "That's just what she wants!" She leaned forward and stuck out her tongue, wiggling her fingers at the sides of her face tauntingly. "You can tell the old hag that I won and Rufus is mine!"

Rufus smacked himself in the face. "You are making the situation infinitely worse, you know..."

Hrist examined Wynnia in the upmost confusion. "What _happened_ to her?"

"I really don't know," Rufus replied. "But I am handling this so please... could you relay to Freya that I don't need to be saved? I am perfectly safe and I wish to stay here."

"That is what I assumed upon hearing the tale," Hrist answered, "but there is the matter of Lezard and Lenneth..."

"Oh, uh," Rufus began to murmur. "You know about that, huh?"

Hrist scowled. "You are aware of Lezard's presence?" she asked him in an accusing tone.

"Lezard doesn't exist anymore!" Rufus pleaded. "Please, you have to look at this rationally, okay?"

Hrist grasped her halberd and pointed it at Rufus. "You know his location, don't you?" she sneered. "Tell me where he is so that I may exact Freya's revenge upon him!"

"Okay so he may have killed Odin," Rufus admitted sheepishly. "And he may have sort of... tried to destroy the world and stuff, but--look, either his soul was purified or this isn't the one from the future, because I've met this guy, and he's not Lezard at all, really!"

Wynnia pointed her sword right back at Hrist, ready to defend Rufus at the sign of any sudden movement. "No way! I really am Alicia, so he must really be Lezard!"

Rufus groaned aloud. "Ah, Wynnia, please!" he begged. "She'll kill him if you tell her that!"

"You just stand back and let the big girls talk, honey," she instructed him sweetly, then her smile turned sharply into a snake's stare as she glared back at Hrist. "You go back to Asgard and tell that old windbag that Rufus doesn't want to be her king, he's going to be mine! And Lenneth is going to be dutchess of New Dipan. that's what we're going to call Solde when I conquer it."

"Conquer Solde?!" Rufus exclaimed.

"Honey?!" Hrist shouted with just as much disbelief in the same instance.

There was a quick shake of the sword in Wynnia's hand. "Yes, Solde! I mean, why not? They're practically part of Dipan anyway, it would be like doing them a favor. It's not like I'm going to tax them or anything, I'm not _evil_."

"Well, you could fool me," Rufus said in a flat tone.

Hrist was still lurching with a sick stomach as a result of the recently spoken term of endearment. "Lenneth cannot possibly be participating in your crazed schemes willingly!"

"Well," Wynnia responded, searching for some witty retort and not finding any. "She will, and I'll make sure that she makes Ewald a good wife, so on with you now! Shoo! Go back to Asgard and feed some other handsome half-elf lord your silly grapes!"

"Now I'm just confused," Rufus sighed.

"Where is she?" Hrist asked, her visor lowing over her slanted eyes. Her shoulders tensed and she was ready to pounce. Wynnia reacted similarly, and Rufus began to frantically think of ways to avoid this horrible cat fight.

He began to explain things as delicately as possible. "Uhh... It isn't so much a question of _where_ so much as--"

"She's in a crystal!" Wynnia interrupted bluntly.

"_What_?" Hrist shouted. Rufus slapped himself in the face once more.

Wynnia was unmoved. "You can either scurry back to Asgard like a good little dog, or I can kill you!"

Hrist's teeth bared aggressively. "Alicia, I do not wish to fight you! You have been tainted by Lezard's evil magic. If necessary, I will purify your soul by returning you to the cycle of rebirth!"

"Call it what you like, Hrist," Wynnia answered. The pitch of her voice that indicated she might only be over-reacting or playing around was gone now. She sounded as remorseful and resolved as Alicia ever had. "I thought that in the next life that perhaps you would no longer justify murder with words like purification and rebirth, but I suppose that it is our destiny to fight."

Hrist was shaken by that, but quickly regained her stance. "In Lady Freya's new world, the true purpose of the gods will be fully realized!"

Their weapons raised and Rufus saw nothing more that he could do. He shouted "stop!" and held Wynnia back to stop her from attacking.

Wynnia was so alarmed to find his arms around her that she dropped her sword with a clatter and turned to embrace him, which really hadn't been his goal at all. "Oh, Rufus!" she cried with more drama than the situation called for as she rubbed her body against him, nuzzling her cheek affectionately against his shoulder. "I knew that you would choose me over all of those old hags, I just knew it! I love you, darling!"

Hrist also dropped her weapon because she felt that she was going to vomit. Rufus had never seen a god (or goddess) throw up, but it looked like Hrist was about to. "In the name of the world ash Yggdrassil," she gagged.

- - -

It was at this point that Ewald had the misfortune of stepping into this situation. He entered the courtyard from the northern side, having come from the kitchen in his search for Wynnia. The machine was not ready yet, but he had to report his progress to her and request the purchase of a few more instruments. He held a clipboard in his arms along with a stack of papers and a quill pen.

"Yes," he added to the valkyrie's protest. "Get a room if you must, and cease your public displays." He looked up from the clipboard and saw their guest for the first time. He was stunned to see another beautiful valkyrie--not nearly as perfect in every way as Lenneth, but still altogether stunning. "Oh, and is this Lady Hrist?" he asked them while flashing her a winning smile. "I'm hurt that you haven't introduced me, sir Rufus!"

Hrist was not interested in his humor, and even less the sparkle of delight in his eyes as they fell upon her. "Ewald!" Rufus shouted in warning, but it was too late. Hrist was on him like a wild animal.

"I will teach you the pain that Alicia felt as you ripped her from all that she loved!" Hrist shouted as Ewald dropped everything in his arms and backed away in fear. "May Nifelheim receive your damned soul!"

Wynnia took only a split-second to lift Angel Slayer and went after Hrist in a similar way, an unbridled attack. The valkyrie knew that her back was unguarded and turned away from her prey at the last second to deflect Wynnia's blade. The two of them clashed as Rufus began to sputter shouts of "wait!" and "hold on!" while dancing around their dual unnoticed by either female.

Ewald backed against a wall in fear and fell on his rear end to the ground just before Hrist's blade was about to thrust into him, and then watched speechlessly as she and Wynnia began to fight each other. He was no expert at swordsmanship and wasn't exactly sure how pole-arm combat differed, but it seemed as if neither of them was really trying to harm the other. They just kept swinging their weapons around.

All at once, he felt it again. There was a tingling sensation at the back of his mind and he knew that if he was pressed to, he could summon that power again--the power which destroyed Lenneth Valkyrie's earthly vessel, rendering her unable to maintain her presence in this realm. It was strange that it came to him now when he was relatively calm compared to the situation with Lenneth. Valkyries just weren't fond of him, it seemed. He quickly suppressed it, whatever "it" was, and began to think of some other way of subduing her.

It didn't take long to formulate a plan. "Rufus!" he shouted. The half-elf, who was having no luck reigning in either of the ladies, gave him his attention. Ewald met him, speaking lowly enough that the valkyrie would not hear. "Could you distract Wynnia somehow so that Hrist might follow me?"

"I can try," Rufus answered. "You aren't going to make her into a valkyrie popsicle or anything, are you?"

"Most certainly not!" he replied. "Just make sure that Hrist has enough of a lead to follow me."

"Fine," he replied.

- - -

That agreed, the two darted off in different directions. Ewald ran back into the castle while Rufus ran to Wynnia. He grabbed her by the arm just as Hrist prepared to attack again. As anticipated, Hrist did not strike at her in her moment of distraction, though Wynnia was extremely angry and attempted to shake Rufus off of her.

"Let go!" Wynnia squealed.

"Wait, listen!" Rufus tried to say. He couldn't explain Ewald's plan right in front of Hrist, and he did not exactly know what it was, anyway.

"She's going after Ewald, let me go!" she shouted, twisting her arm out of his grip.

Distraction, distraction! What could possibly distract Wynnia once she got going on one of her crusades? There was only one thing that would work for certain. He hated the idea of it, but the situation called for desperate measures. Rufus pulled her to him, sliding his palm under her chin. He lowered his face and kissed her. He felt her gasp against his lips and then melt willingly into his arms, forgetting all about the fight.

This also worked as an effective Hrist-repellent. Rather than watch their sickening display of affection, she went after Ewald, who had only a short lead on her into the castle. Rufus hoped he ran fast.

He held Wynnia for a moment and then pushed her gently away. His face flushed with shame and embarrassment. "Sorry," he said and bowed apologetically. "Feel free to slap me if you want."

Wynnia giggled girlishly and swayed where she stood. "Oh, whatever for?" she cooed and pushed against him again. "You don't have to stop either."

"Ewald is in mortal danger!" Rufus reminded her.

"Oh," she answered. "That's right. What a mood killer."

Rufus shook from anxiety, but not from any fear of Ewald losing his life. He sort of wished she would slap him to snap him out of whatever this funny feeling was. "I think he's planning something," he explained. "He wants Hrist to follow him. I couldn't get your attention so I..."

Wynnia sneered. "Is that the only reason?" she asked him angrily. "Ooh, you're horrible!" She still didn't slap him, but pushed him away from her. "Oh well," she shrugged. "I guess I can call it practice for later."

"Would you please be serious?" he groaned. "Ewald is in danger!"

She turned back to face him and winked. "No way," she assured him. "He's the genius after all. I'm certain that he's headed for your room."

"My room?" Rufus retorted in confusion, but managed to come to the correct conclusion before asking. "Ah... the seal around it..."

"Yep," she answered. "Although... I suppose he could use some help."

- - -

Ewald sprinted through the halls of Dipan Castle, quite aware of the enraged valkyrie follwing at his heels. Still, he had to make it up to the sealed room without anyone interfering. That was hard, seeing as how the castle was littered with einherjar who still wanted a piece of Hrist even long after the battles between Hrist and their patron valkyrie, Silmeria.

"Don't mind me!" he shouted, brushing by Atrasia and Syphide on the stairs. "Just me and a valkyrie passing through!" His speed was impressive for his size and build. He ran down the hall, nearly toppling Dyn and running smack into Gerald. "Please disregard the valkyrie chasing me, everything is completely under control, I assure you!"

Finally he reached the room in question and realized the predicament that he was in. He had to get her to follow him in there, and then get out before she killed him, and shut the door in place to form the seal. Tricky work for someone with no fighting skills. His transportation magic took some time to pull off, time that she would never give him. Even now he saw the violent light flashing up the stairs. She was coming.

He quickly ran into the room and decided to rely on his magic. He could stun her for a moment, and then run around her. That would work!

He concentrated on his spell, waiting to cast it at its full force as soon as she materialized inside of the room. He thought of the spell, and words jumped to his lips. "Recognize your true master!" is what leapt from his mouth, but that was not the proper incantation! "I am the father of heaven!" Ewald clapped his hand over his mouth. Where was this coming from?

It was too late. Hrist had taken physical form and was now standing inside the room between himself and the doorway. Her eyes burned with passionate rage as she stared him down. "To be the one to finish you is quite an honor," she spoke slowly as if tasting her words and savoring their flavor. "You forced us into that merged form... you ripped her away from her love and then ripped each of us apart... you are the one who is responsible for this foreign emotion in my heart, you are the one responsible for the pain of my sisters, and now I shall have the pleasure of killing you! Should you reincarnate it is no matter, for I could enjoy this countless times!"

"P-please, I have no idea what you mean!" Ewald struggled to say, but she would not listen. She swung her weapon, ripping through all of the furniture in the room but gracefully avoiding the walls and ceiling.

Her expert care in this matter may have saved him, for should her halberd's tip have scraped a wall and caused it to spark, she would certainly suspect something amiss and would have then listened for the snap of a bow from the hall. A bolt of divine lighting shot through the doorway and struck her squarely in the back. She shrieked and so did Ewald (his actually sounded more feminine of the two noises), but he was quick enough even in his alarm to take the opportunity to run for the door. He threw himself past it and into the hall.

He heard it slam behind him just before something large impacted it from the other side. Hrist struck it only to find that a large amount of energy was surging through her as a result. They heard her cry and then begin to shout angry words.

As the shouts and beatings continued, he looked up to find Wynnia standing in front of the door with Rufus, both smiling. "You nearly ate it," Rufus greeted him.

Ewald stood and began to dust himself off, passing this off as completely unusual. "I would have been able to handle it on my own, except that I had another of those strange reactions."

"Reactions?" Wynnia asked in concern, raising her voice over Hrist's protests. "Like when Lenneth attacked you?"

"Yes, something like that," he mumbled in response. "Anyway, what should we do about _her_?"

They fell silent and the hall was drowned in Hrist's cries of "Release me you fiends!" and "I will kill you all!" and the like.

Rufus breathed in deeply and sighed. "As long as she's alive, they won't be able to send another valkyrie... not that I think Silmeria would be a threat to us anyway."

"Of course not," Wynnia agreed. "I wish that she would come. She's the only goddess that I'd welcome here."

Ewald eyed the door in scrutiny. "I hope that this holds," he said. "Regardless of whether or not she receives help from the outside, this barrier is a modified relic. It may not stand up to this continuous strain. It was designed to keep gods from entering certain places, not to contain them."

"We will have to think of something quickly then," Wynnia said. "But... I don't think any of us will be able to think with all of this racket."

"Let's assign some guards," Rufus said. "We should work on getting Lenneth in better shape, too. That may give us some leverage in negotiating with Hrist."

"Two valkyries in hand," Wynnia sighed, "and neither of them is the one that I wanted to see."

Ewald was still listening at this point, but he was a bit absent from the conversation. His difficulties in casting his spell just then troubled him greatly. He had understood when the same reaction had saved him that it had been a sort of instinct, but that had been completely pointless. Was it Lezard speaking through him, trying to get out? He didn't want to say that it could be true. Whether he had once been Lezard or was destined to become Lezard, either way, it looked bleak for him.

He quickly excused himself and went to work in his laboratory again. There, the serene presence of the sleeping Lenneth would calm him. She could sooth him and make everything right. Only her.


	11. Death and Rebirth

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 11: Death and Rebirth **

The city of Flenceburg sprawled before them, its prized academy for magical arts prevailing over all with its tall walls and twisting spires. Phyress led her party through the busy streets. Her children and their friend follwed behind her obediently, but not quietly.

"Chrystie," Seluvia whispered. "Just... just what are we doing here? We've been looking for _something_ for days..."

"I don't know," his companion answered just as hushed.

Dyn, the large swordsman, answered in a normal tone of voice. "Have you thought to ask?"

Chrystie and Seluvia hopped and began to wave their arms to shush him while both saying "Quiet, quiet!" together.

Phyress had decided to take the kids along on her trip. She doubted that anything would lie between Dipan and Flenceburg that she couldn't kill on her own, but it she thought it might be fun. It would give Sylphide some time free of her overprotective son, and who knows--maybe Chrystie and Seluvia could get the poor guy a girlfriend during their stay in Flenceburg.

No such luck. After two weeks of travel and searching the city, she was ready to kill all three of them.

"I told you that it's something for Rufus!" she shouted at them. Chystie and Seluvia both pouted and returned to whispering amongst themselves. Dyn stood high over their cloud of muted conversation with a painfully dull look on her face.

She couldn't figure out her daughter and adopted son's relationship for the (psuedo-immortal) life of her. Hadn't Chrystie ran away looking for him, had some grand adventure, and then rode off into the sunset? For life partners, they were certainly platonic around each other! And their attachment to Dyn was even wierder. The boy was a fine fighter, but he had the personality of a wooden board. This was a very suspicious sort of threesome that they had going on--not the interesting kind either--but a very suspicious kind! The worst thing was that she didn't get any grandchildren out of the deal any way you sliced it!

"Unless you're making babies, stop whatever the hell you're doing over there!" she barked, and the three swiftly broke up their trio. "It's a potion to help Rufus with his romantic pursuits."

"Uh..." Seluvia mumbled awkwardly, "you know, they make medicine for that sort... _dysfunction_, we didn't have to go all the way to Flenceburg..."

"Not THAT sort of help!" Phyress groaned and slapped herself in the face. "It's a potion that wipes clean your memories so that you can be reborn without actually dying."

"But if you lose your memories," Chrystie thought aloud, "isn't it the same as dying, in a way?"

"Ah!" Phyress grumbled. "Don't remind me! This whole thing is stupid and I'll be glad when it's all over."

The city of Flenceburg was rich with practitioners of the magical arts. Seluvia, being the resident mage of their party, narrowed down the search. Still, Phyress found herself dragging the "kids" around from shop to shop and to all sorts of research centers for three days straight before they acquired a vial of the so-called ale.

With the bottled concoction in her hand, she took a sniff. It smelled like regular ale to her. With Seluvia's assurance that it was indeed magical, and quite powerful at that, she paid the large fee for the potion and the party set off for Dipan Castle again, the place that they now called home.

- - -

Would kicking or punching be more satisfying? Oh, forget both of those. Strangling was the way to go. To feel the life of Dipan's princess slip between her hands would be the best way. A good old-fashioned throttle.

"Um," Frei said, eyeing the armrest of Odin's--no, _Freya's_ throne. It cracked under the grip of her fingers. "I believe that Hrist may have been put down, don't you?"

Freya looked down upon Frei in horrible distaste. Her sister was the younger, _maybe_. It wasn't natural for humans to remember their birth, and it was similarly unusual for gods. Freya had always been extremely wary of her "sister," but never considered her a threat. She was too passive towards all things to care about the throne.

That was not to say that she was kind. Rufus had never gotten on with the other goddess, she was just too out of it. Whenever he slipped into that mopey mood of his, Frei would only titter girlishly and say, "A god in love with a human? How silly!" as if it meant nothing at all.

Odin was mortal once. Was she the only one who remembered that? She grasped the grip of the seat even more firmly, reminding herself that she had despised all mortals just the same up until extremely recent times. It was weakness, wasn't it? She wanted Odin replaced so badly that she would reexamine her feelings about mortals in order to justify Rufus's presence.

"Shall I find another chair?" Frei asked her just after the heavenly seat snapped into pieces.

"No," Freya replied, opting to float in place instead. "Frei, is there any other method of reaching Midgard that you know of?"

"Well," Frei began, pretending to think very hard, though Freya knew that she was actually quick-minded. "You could simply inhabit the body of an elf, that is what we always did before."

"That will not work," Freya sighed. "Even if an elf possessed the power that I require, Rufus would never forgive me..."

Frei was silent for a moment, then opted for another suggestion. "If you stay close to a valkyrie, then you can remain materialized for quite a while," she said. "It's how einherjar who are not yet free are able to roam, after all."

Freya groaned. "The only valkyrie I have left is that rebellious Silmeria, and I am unable to send her due to the current situation..." She pressed her eyes closed in annoyance. "How could Hrist have been captured?"

"I'm not sure," Frei shrugged. "Oh well. I hope she frees herself soon, or at least has the good sense to kill herself."

"You see her destroy herself?" Freya said softly.

Another shrug. "To die means nothing to us, does it? She will not be destroyed, only transferred. It is better than to remain captured, isn't it?"

"That is a cruel way of thinking," Freya muttered.

Frei smiled. "You've grown a bit soft, haven't you?" she taunted her. "Anyway... You should know that Silmeria is my favorite valkyrie."

Freya flickered away to her room, opting for solitude rather than the company of her sister or any of her fellow gods. She imagined Alicia suffocating in her grasp, and this made her feel much better.

- - -

Items from Solde came in on the backs of the strongest einherjar: Zunde, Kraad, Roland, Falx, Guilm, and that sort. Wynnia stood back watching and found it amusing when Rufus tried to help. He really struggled to lift a crate of flour and found it impossible. _How cute!_

"Pathetic," he sighed.

Guilm, a large man with a beard and greying hair came to take it off of his hands. "Do not worry," he said with a warm but patronizing smile. "Skills such as yours are not based so much in strength as agility."

Wynnia popped into their discussion rather suddenly, causing Rufus to jump in alarm. "Why don't you use your amazing godly powers?" she insisted. "Come on, lift that box! Haul that crate! Tow that luggage!"

Rufus rubbed at his arm, grimacing in embarrassment. "I don't want to be a god anymore," he said. "I just need to buff up some, that's all there is to it."

Guilm looked to Kraad. "Ready?" the founder of Villnore said to his new associate, the retainer to Dipan's princesses.

"Yes," Guilm replied, and the two of them together lifted the crate.

"H-hey!" Rufus whelped. "No fair, you're both doing it!"

"Well of course," Kraad laughed. "What kind of idiot would try to lift this on his own?"

Wynnia pointed at Rufus. Rufus's shoulders slumped in defeat.

It had been two weeks since Rufus arrived in Dipan. Since freeing him, Wynnia had felt more at peace in her heart. Her random urges to... well, do things that were not entirely mutually desired between them were not nearly as strong. Because she wasn't as desperate, maybe? That couldn't be the only reason...

Having Rufus nearby wasn't just a way to fill up one of the many empty holes in the fabric of her soul, and it wasn't just satisfying the desires of her subconscious former life, either. It was fun. She felt like telling jokes when they were together, and like laughing. Ewald never laughed with her like this, and she had never been close to anyone else.

Rufus smiled at his own expense and laughed softly. The noise made her want roll on the floor like a complacent house cat. And to be rubbed, maybe. _No, no, no, Wynnia! Bad Wynnia!_ Suddenly she realized that in her thoughts she was once again referring to herself as Wynnia rather than Alicia, something she had not done since she was a small girl. This was an entirely new direction that she was going in, but for the first time in her life she felt content with it. Wynnia was maybe not so great as Alicia, but she was okay.

Wynnia could live with adequate so long as Rufus stayed somewhere near her.

- - -

It was sunset and Hrist was angry. She fumed. She vented, She raged. And _still_ she was stuck in this damned room!

It was hours before she had finally stopped her assault on the walls, and the struggle to escape renewed again and again thereafter after each moment she took for a break. This cycle of maybe five minutes of rest for every hour of banging had gone on for days now. Eventually that seal was going to break. It may take years, but it _would_ break.

After a while, she said to Hel with it to her dominant posture because no one was looking anyway, and sat down on the bed for her break. It hadn't been made, she noticed. Someone sloppy must have been living here recently. The sheets were tangled as if someone had tossed and turned all night unable to sleep.

For reasons she could not comprehend, something possessed her to inspect the pillow. She grabbed it and lifted it to her face. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled its scent. It was sweet but also a bit salty, very strange. As she released the breath, she felt a powerful wave of nostalgia. She did not know what this was, but it was wonderfully comforting. She found herself taking another breath of it and letting that feeling wash over her.

But wait, didn't Rufus say he had been captured at first? Then it stood to reason that this was his bed, and thus his smell. _This is Rufus's_-- Hrist gagged. Musk?! Then to add to her horror, she considered again that the sheets were rather disorderly and that young thing pretending to be Alicia had been adamant about naming Rufus her lover, hadn't she?

She jumped off the bed at the thought of this being some kind of "love scent," not that Hrist would know what that smelled like or what exactly caused it, being a goddess and all. Regardless of her ignorance, she had to fight the urge to vomit again. It was at this point that she heard a knock at the door and readied her weapon.

Rufus entered and firmly snapped the door back in place behind him, sealing them both within. He gave her an amused smirk. "Have you been standing there poised to attack this entire time?" he asked her.

"You sick--! Sick... oh, I don't even have a word for you!" she growled in disgust. "Adulterate, depraved, degenerate, bastard!"

"Seems like your vocabulary is pretty good to me," Rufus responded sheepishly. "What did _I_ do?"

"What you did is not nearly as despicable as what you must plan to do!" Hrist spat, confusing him even further. He had no idea what she was talking about, and neither did she, really. "Whatever you are thinking of doing to me in that bed, I will never do it! ...whatever that is, I say! I-I certainly don't want your gruesome smells on me! I certainly don't find such scents strangely attractive!"

"Would you just--!" Rufus sputtered. "Wait, _what_?"

Hrist shook her weapon at him. "Be gone with you!"

"Look," he said pleadingly, "I came here to ask something from you."

"You think that I would do you a favor after being humiliated so?" she scoffed. "You are lucky I don't impale you! I only stay my hand because you are now technically a god and have somehow earned Freya's protection!"

"Listen, I may not be around much longer," he said, speaking calmly. "Hrist, I know we've had some ups and downs and this is definitely a down, but..."he sighed. Hrist heard the remorse in his tone and lowered her weapon slowly. He looked up at her, his eyes begging. "Please, take care of Wynnia. That's Alicia's name now. I know she doesn't seem like Alicia on the surface, but she really is deep down, and I... For her, I..."

"Do you really care for her so?" Hrist asked him. When he did not answer, she went on. "Why would you leave her if you do?"

"My soul will stay with her," he said. "But I'm only being cruel to her the way I am now..."

"I do not understand," Hrist said, "but your request is an honorable one, and I shall respect it."

Rufus smiled at her. It wasn't often that Hrist had people smile at her, and her reaction to it was strange. She felt sort of warm--lighter. She didn't like it. "Thanks, Hrist," he said in true gratitude. "And if she'll let you, watch over Freya too. Keep her company. Annoy her once in a while."

"That is not part of our agreement," Hrist groaned. "Please do not do anything stupid."

"I can't promise that," he chuckled.

- - -

The sun had fallen far behind the castle when Phyress and her team returned to Dipan castle. She felt like a robber or an assassin sneaking in without Wynnia's knowing, even though she was only obeying Rufus. After sending the "children" to distract the princess, she set out to find the foolish lord.

The halls were dark and chilly even in the early beginnings of night. Though she appreciated Wynnia's frugal handing of their funds, lighting was not a good place to cut the budget.

She found Rufus in his new room right where she suspected he would be at this time after dinner with Wynnia and the others. After knocking, she entered and he was sitting on the bed. She made sure that no one saw her enter and then shut the door, sure that even she was not safe from Wynnia's wild imagination. Rufus was certainly cute enough and amusing to tease, but she found men who were hopelessly in love somewhat unattractive when shopping for herself rather than for Alicia.

"I brought your stupid potion," she said, holding the precious bottle forward.

"Huh," Rufus mumbled, taking it into his hands. "I was expecting it to be a bit more... booze-like, being an ale and all."

"Yeah," Phyress chuckled. "It sure smelled like booze, but who knows?"

"Only one way to find out," he answered her, and tilted the bottle as he looked at it, allowing a candle's light to filter through its golden liquid.

"You aren't going to drink it _now_ are you?" she spouted, suddenly feeling all sorts of reservations.

"Maybe later," Rufus replied. "Maybe I'll just fall asleep Rufus and wake up someone else..."

Phyress frowned deeply. "Can thirty years of loneliness really kill your will to live?" she asked.

"Sure can," he replied with a smile. "I know that Wynnia will pitch a fit, so tell her that it was all my fault and that I am sorry."

Phyress reached out to take the bottle back, but stopped herself. "You are master of your own fate," she said, finally. "I won't get in your way." With that she turned to the door. "I just wish you would consider it a while longer..."

"Thanks," Rufus replied. "Maybe I'll wait a while..."

Phyress doubted that, but she left the room. If Rufus wanted to live through another day with all of that conflict in his heart, then he would; and if he decided to wake up another person, then he would.

Either way, it wasn't her place to say goodbye.

- - -

The walk back down to the first floor was a long one. Phyress first planned on joining the others in the kitchen for the tail end of dinner. Wynnia would grow suspicious if she didn't make some kind of appearance after being gone for so long. The new princess of Dipan had no idea where they all had gone, and Phyress hadn't even brought her a present. She had sworn and threatened her three younger cohorts into silence, but that was not something to test.

"Dammit, could we afford some freaking candles?" she griped as she rubbed her arms in the dark hallway.

Suddenly, a deep, stern voice. "What did you do?"

Phyress jumped half way to the ceiling in shock, sure that some ghost or demon had come to haunt her for participating in the voluntary wiping of Rufus's memory. Her heart was still beating like a war drum in her chest even after she realized that it was only Celes, who looked downright terrifying in the dim light with that helmet over her face.

"I only did what he told me to!" she said in her defense. "What do I know about love, and what do you? I can't tell a man not to follow his heart!"

Celes sighed. "You're jumpy," she said. "That's suspicious."

Certain things were inevitable. Celes was going to pry until she heard the truth, and she always knew truths from half-truths. Phyress was going to tell her because her heavy heart begged for her to tell _someone_. Celes was going to tell Wynnia in a calm and rational voice. Wynnia was going to go completely batshit insane.

And that's exactly what happened.

- - -

Rufus heard such a loud banging at his door that he was sure that Hrist had gotten loose. "RUFUS!" Wynnia shouted through the thick oaken door (which Rufus had locked, smart move or not).

His decision to do this had been made quite a while ago, but the details of exactly how, he had et to lay out. Should he just go on and do it without Wynnia's knowledge and hope that whoever he was tomorrow greeted her with love and affection? Or, should he let her know of it somehow? Leave a note, or attempt to tell her face to face? It seemed someone had made the decision for him. There would be no running away from the aftereffects now.

He opened the door to find Wynnia glaring at him, her face livid in anger. "Where is it?" she demanded, holding out her hand open-palmed.

"Uh.. where is what?" he replied, half-joking. She was not amused.

The petite young woman pushed her way into the room and took hold of him by both of his arms. She shook him hard while shouting, "Idiot!" He was once again surprised by the strength she possessed despite her small body. In a combination of his surprise and guilt, he allowed her to push him down so that he was sitting on the bed facing up at her.

She did not let him go and pushed herself onto the surface of the bed along with him, placing her knee boldly between his legs. It dug into the mattress under her weight as she leaned forward. Rufus was sure that even godliness would not protect him if she had decided to plant it a few inches higher, but he couldn't say that he didn't expect this sort of reaction. He was not totally surprised even when that dangerous glare shone in her eyes--the devil woman, servant of the underworld, tainted lunatic, or whoever she was. "Give it to me," she growled, the words spilling out from her throat. He could feel her breath on his face like dragon's fire.

"I-I told you that those kind of come-ons make me uncomfortable," he stammered, trying to back away.

"I mean the bottle that Phyress gave you!" she shouted, pulling him back towards her, refusing to let him shrink away. Rufus was relieved however to see Wynnia's usual self regain some control.

"Sorry," he answered, "You made those crazy eyes at me--hot by the way, just kinda scary--and I totally missed the context."

She shook him until he was sure he would rattle. "Stop making lame jokes and tell me what the hell you are thinking and where that damn bottle is!"

While still being shaken like some kind of sediment-laden salad dressing container, he grasped Wynnia by her shoulders and held her still. The physical abuse ceased. "Wynnia," he sighed while smoothing his fingers over the curves of her shoulders. This quieted her. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to stay right here with you."

"Liar!" she shouted, and her voice ended in a choke. In a broken tone, she continued. "You're trying to become a new person!"

"For you," he promised, forcing a smile. "Come on. It's not like I'll die."

"It's the same as dying!" she retorted. He caught the slightest sparkle of tears welling up in her eyes. "How will I know that you are the same person? That you'll remember me? That you'll even like me? You may as well go back to Asgard for all it will do for me! Just go back!"

"Hey..." He saw that she was drawing away from him and pulled her back, enveloping her in his arms. She accepted the hug even though she was doubtful, upset, and still angry. "It's okay. I'm just going to drink this thing, and then go to sleep. When I wake up again, I want you to be the first thing that I see. I promise that I'll be so in love with you that you won't know what to do with me."

Wynnia stopped struggling, but refused to look at him. "But you won't be _Rufus_ anymore. You won't be _my_ Rufus, and every time I look at you, I'll only remember the way that you used to be and want to be with _you_ again!"

Rufus listened to that and his grasp on Wynnia slacked. She slipped from his arms and he stared at her in wide-eyed realization. Then, his eyes fell and his hands returned to his sides.

She lowered her head. "There is only one way that this will work," she said, swallowing hard.

Rufus looked up once more. "What do you mean?"

"We both drink some," Wynnia said, regaining her composure. She spoke with the confidence of a true leader now, having made a decision that would likely not change. "We both drink your concoction and wake up together, perfect strangers." She took on a mischievous look and her eyes darted to the side. "Of course we will assume under such circumstances that we are lovers who have come down with amnesia and embrace each other wildly on the very spot..."

"Gah, you can't just _come down_ with amnesia!" Rufus grumbled, then realized that this was the very least ridiculous thing that she was saying. "You can't drink it!" he said firmly. "You'd forget about everything you've done in your life, about Ewald and your parents, and about your goals to restore Dipan that you've worked so hard for!" He raised his chin and folded his arms stubbornly. "I won't let you."

"You won't _let_ me?" she scowled in response. "Who the Hel made _you_ the king of the universe?"

"_You_ sort of did!" Rufus retorted. "Um... for a little while."

"Well I won't let you drink it unless you let me drink it," Wynnia answered, taking on the exact same adamant posture with her arms crossed and nose turned up.

Rufus took a deep breath and released it slowly in frustration as he let his shoulders slump. He leaned back in the bed on his hands and smiled. "You're really something," he said.

Wynnia opened her mouth a few seconds before her words came. "Rufus, I love you."

"Yeah," Rufus sighed, and he turned his face away. "You've told me that..."

"No, I really mean it now," she went on. "I don't just love my memories of how you used to be, I love _you_." She clasped her hands together pleadingly, for a moment seeming all too much like that former incarnation. "Please believe me."

Her eyes searched for some sort of confirmation, and he gave it to her. He took her hands and gently leaned into her again, to place his forehead against hers. "Okay," he said softly. "I will go on as I have. Somehow."

"Oh, good!" she squealed, and threw herself into him. Her head bonked against his with a clatter as she tackled him onto the bed.

After making pretty sure that he did not have a concussion, Rufus pushed her back up. "Hey, what did I tell you about that?" he stammered in embarrassment. "You gotta stop doing that..."

"Sorry," Wynnia apologized in sort of a sing-song tone that made it seem very much like she wasn't really sorry about that. Nevertheless, she stood up and gave Rufus adequate breathing space.

Rufus followed her lead, standing. He reached into his tunic and held out the bottle. "Well, I guess we can still find out if it's bubbly or not," he said, raising it over his head.

"What are you doing?" Wynnia shouted, raising her hands to stop him.

"Uhh," he muttered, confused by her outburst. "I was gonna throw it against the floor in a thrilling show of resolve. Too dramatic, you think?"

"Phyress paid a lot for that!" Wynnia complained loudly. "Don't just crush it! Give it here."

"You wouldn't do something crazy like drink it while I wasn't looking hoping that it would revert you to Alicia somehow, would you?" he asked, glaring at her in scrutiny.

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "No, I promise!"

"Okay," he agreed. He handed over the bottle, placing it into her delicate hands.

"I'll let Ewald catalog it," she said. "He'd never let anyone use it if it's rare, and it'll give him something to distract him from that crazy machine he's building." She sighed. "He gets a bit... carried away sometimes."

"You're one to talk," Rufus laughed.

"Come on," Wynnia replied, smiling. "You didn't eat dinner! Let's go get something."

Rufus followed her into the hallway. It wasn't until they were there in the quiet and dimly lit passage that they fell silent and things became awkward. He felt like he should apologize to her, not just for what he had almost done either. He should apologize for being unable to get past things. He sighed, inwardly calling himself a coward and an idiot. What would apologizing do, anyway?

Wynnia broke the lengthening silence with a soft voice. "I'm glad you'll stay," she said. "Right now... all I want is for you to stay here. Is that..." she hesitated, which was unlike her. "Is that too painful for you?"

"No, it's fine," he replied. "I'm fine."


	12. Old Flame

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 12: Old Flame**

The kitchen seemed to be the popular place of gathering, and especially so today. There was an amazing smell coming from one of the ovens. Wynnia kept everyone at the door, complaining that their heavy footsteps would make the cake fall. Several heavy warriors huddled around the door mumbling things about how exactly you drop a cake when it's in the oven.

Rufus pushed through the gaggle of tall, broad-shouldered warriors and tried to get into the kitchen. For the past few days he had been struggling to talk to Wynnia, but they had exchanged only pleasant words. Wynnia, as usual, was pretending almost on a level that bordered psychosis that nothing had happened at all.

"Nope, nope!" Wynnia giggled, pushing him back. "My rule applies to you, too! Stay out!"

Rufus groaned as she flitted away from him. It seemed rather intentional. It was kind of nice to see her turn and skip away, though. She was wearing an apron with lace trim over her usual house dress. Her hair was pulled back into a pony-tail so as not to get loose strands into the food. He turned his head from side to side and saw that everyone else there had the same thought. It didn't need to be said aloud. The smell wasn't the only thing that brought the spectators to the kitchen.

Rufus pushed his way back out and slumped his shoulders. "She's cute, she's strong, she handles a sword like a pro, she's sweet, _and_ she cooks," he mumbled. "What the Hel is wrong with me?"

"I'd like to know!" came the voice of Kraad. The huge and good-natured heavy warrior chuckled and draped an arm over Rufus's shoulder. "What the Hel _is_ wrong with you?" He turned his chin up to the ceiling and raised his fist in the grips of a passionate memory. "I remember when Circe used to cook," he nearly cried. "She made such a mean pie, you wouldn't believe it!"

Rufus slunk out of his grip carefully and regained his much-valued personal space. "It's Alicia."

Kraad just looked back at him with a blank stare. "But Wynnia is Alicia."

"Sort of..."

"No, not sort of," Kraad insisted. "They are the same person, right? It doesn't mater which name you call her because she's both. She's like two girls in one. That's a value pack!" he gave Rufus another unwanted slap on the back. "You're a lucky man, I tell you!"

"I wish I shared your simple logic," Rufus chuckled with a heavy bitterness. "I wish I could think like you."

"You _should_ think like me! Life's so much easier when you think like a Kraad. Complex problems become perfectly clear!" Kraad took a deep breath of the air. The scent it carried even down the hall was heavenly. "And the answer to your problem is... Who cares who she is if she can make a cake like that?"

"True," Rufus laughed. "Hm... maybe you have a point."

As Rufus took his own deep breath of the wonderful smell, Sha-kon dared enter the hallway and run the gauntlet of dreamy-eyes (or more like dreamy-nosed) einherjar. "Sir Rufus!" she greeted him. "Ewald would like me to tell you that he is ready for that sample now. If you and Wynnia could join him..."

"Thanks, I'll tell her," he answered and turned back for the kitchen.

Wynnia was excited to hear the news and dropped what she was doing. "It has to cool off before I can put icing on it, anyway!" she told all of the disappointed onlookers. "If any of you eats it before I get back, you're in for it!"

- - -

The walk down to the laboratory was quiet as usual for the most part. Rufus debated himself on what he was trying to say and how he should go about saying it until they were half way there, and by then it was awkward. He supposed it would always be awkward, though.

He stopped Wynnia by taking her hand. "Wait for a minute, please," he said.

Wynnia turned and feigned to appear oblivious, though it was very obvious that he had been trying to work up the nerve to say something. She was afraid of what he might say when he did.

"I have been thinking," Rufus began, "and I have decided that... I don't think it matters."

"What doesn't?" Wynnia asked him hesitantly.

"Who either of us are."

"I don't know," Wynnia laughed. She bounced on her heels timidly. "That sounds pretty important."

"All I know is that I'm only happy when I'm with you. I'll call you Alicia if that's what you decide you want, and I'll call you Wynnia if you like that instead, but in the end it's just _you_."

"Really?" Wynnia gasped and flew at him. She pressed up against his chest, making him flush red to the ears. "Rufus, I never thought you would say that, and I had always hoped to hear something like that!"

"Really?" he laughed nervously. "Well, okay then..." He put his arms around her and felt her lay her head against him. Then, as if she'd suddenly changed her mind, she was standing up on her tip-toes and kissing him. Rufus made a muffled noise in alarm but allowed this because it was nice. He held her and reciprocated her affection.

It was when she started making deep moaning sounds against his lips that he began to get worried. He pulled her away, and she didn't want to comply. She clung to him with all of her might. Finally he ripped her away. "Slow down!" he shouted and began to cough for breath.

"Oh dear," Wynnia whimpered apologetically, but Rufus was certain that she didn't sound sorry. "I-it must have been one of my weird urges again!"

"I'm not complaining or anything, just..." Rufus was still blushing as hard as ever before in his life. When he regained the courage to look at her, he saw that she was honestly "You say that you've felt better since Lenneth and Hrist appeared..."

"That's right," Wynnia said. "But sometimes I still feel... like when I caught you... so I tried to stay away..."

"So that's it," Rufus said gently, and placed his arm around her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. "I thought it was because I was being such a dumb ass..."

"You know," Wynnia said, smiling sweetly and turning back and forth with her arms clasped coyly. She rubbed against him in a way that was supposed to look inadvertent, but didn't. "We could blow Ewald off and go up to my room..."

Rufus's concern quickly evaporated into dismay. "I think you're feeling just fine," he sighed. "Come on. I wonder if there's not a way to fix this." He continued in the direction of Ewald's lab.

"I hope so," she said, and followed after him. "I don't like hearing something that sounds like Hrist's voice in my head every time things start to get spicy, it's a real turn-off."

Rufus tripped and fell over directly onto his face despite there being nothing at all on the floor for his foot to catch on. "C-c-come on!" he stuttered bashfully as he regained his footing.

**- - -**

Maniacal laughter echoed through the bowels of Dipan castle. The laboratory in the lower level hummed with the sounds of Ewald's conquest. The machine constructed there vibrated softly, running on magic power. A large tube filled with a precious organic fluid designed specifically for this task stood in the center of the once-demolished laboratory filtering the light of every lantern around so that the entire room was green and unearthly.

"I have done it!" Ewald announced, waving his arms wide in triumph and greeting to his visitors.

Rufus and Wynnia crept carefully over the tubes and piles of books that littered the floor now. If Rufus was unsettled by the setting before, one couldn't imagine how he felt now. Even Wynnia was starting to consider herself thoroughly creeped out. They looked up at Ewald who appeared to be eight feet tall, glasses glaring in the strange emerald light.

"You called?" Rufus answered to him, without giving the mage the proper excited praise that he was obviously hoping for. He did, however, keep Wynnia at arm's length out of caution. Wynnia, as usual, couldn't be more inviting to his protective habits.

Ewald stepped down from the crate he perched himself on, knocking his height back down to a normal and far less intimidating level. "You could be more enthusiastic," he grumbled.

"I know you wore your extra-long cape just for us, buddy," Rufus chuckled nervously, "but could we just get this over with?"

"Fine," Ewald huffed. "I am just as eager to see my beautiful goddess's figure in physical form."

Rufus shrugged. "So, where do you want me to stand?"

"Sit, actually," Ewald replied, and motioned to the crate he had been standing on. "And roll up your sleeve."

Rufus did as instructed. Wynnia followed him and knelt by his side, concerned. "You aren't going to hurt him, are you?" she asked, looking frantically between Rufus and her friend.

Ewald held up a syringe. "Unless he cries like a baby when I poke him with this, then no."

"Yeesh," Rufus grimaced. "That thing looks like a torture device..." In fact it wasn't exactly a sterile and safe medical instrument, a huge and unwieldly thing Ewald had come up with on the spot. The green light glinted from its tip.

Wynnia was alarmed by the sight of it as well. She clamped onto Rufus's arm and squeezed hard. "I forbid you from using that strange device on my Rufus!" she insisted. "Find something else! You'll give him an infection!"

"He's a _god_, Wynnia," Ewald reminded her. "It isn't as if he's going to suffer from tetanus should I make a mistake."

Rufus sighed and placed his other arm, the one not prepared for a brutal stabbing, on Wynnia's shoulder. "I'm fine," he said. "We have to save Lenneth and this may be the only way."

Wynnia looked up pleadingly and then slowly let go of him. Ewald rolled his eyes as he reached out for Rufus. "Don't squirm or you'll make it worse," he said.

He extended his right hand to take hold of Rufus's. This was necessary to ensure that the jumpy half-elf wouldn't flinch and spill his sample. It was not that Ewald had any urge to touch him. Certainly not. As much as he looked and acted like a woman, he was definitely lacking in several feminine traits--bosoms, to name one. Er... that would be two, actually. Yet when he looked at Rufus's bare arm laid prone before him he felt a strange and unnatural anxiety. _Must be my excitement to finally meet Lenneth properly face to face, _he told himself.

"What are you waiting for?" Rufus grumbled. "Stop looking at me like that, you're really creeping me out."

"Er, sorry," Ewald coughed, which proved further that something was wrong. Ewald didn't just spit out apologies like that unless he was distracted.

He grabbed hold of Rufus's wrist firmly. As soon as he did, there was a bright flash of cripst white light. Ewald was blinded and his ears were deafened. He could just barely hear the sound of Wynnia shrieking as he became half-aware of his body being propelled into the air and across the laboratory by a sudden force.

While this happened, he felt something inside of him shift--as if all the power he had never understood the origins of was now being siphoned out of him, transferred to another location.

When he finally came to rest on the ground he was bruised and out of breath. The room was smokey and all of the lanterns had been blown out. Only Lenneth's crystal and the tube he prepared for her new body were aglow; and since those things were really all that Ewald cared about, he sighed in relief just as soon as he regained the ability to breathe.

Wynnia coughed and waved her hand to clear the smoke away. "What the Hel was that?" she said loudly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ewald answered, getting to his feet. "That hurt, but Lenneth is fine."

"Lenneth shmenneth!" Wynnia protested, still waving smoke away from her face and coughing. "Your crazy experiment nearly killed all of us!"

Ewald began to try and discern the cause. "Awfully dramatic timing for an electrical malfunction," he thought. "Rufus, would you be aware of an adverse effects your presence may have to my machinery?" No answer.

Wynnia turned slowly to Rufus. "Are you all right, darling?" she said worriedly. Rufus was standing now with a straight and firm posture, showing no sign of injury. In fact he was rather far from shocked by the entire event. When he did not answer, Wynnia became worried. "Rufus?" she asked softly, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't move at all, and so she took a step to look at his face. His expression was startlingly serious. "Did it hurt you?" she asked him in a whisper. "Is everything okay?"

She gasped loudly as she felt an arm clamp firmly around her waist. "Rufus!" she shouted in alarm as he grasped her by the hip and pulled her to him. His hand grazed dangerously close to the curves of her shapely bottom. Her face flushed as a shiver danced down her spine. "N-not here!" she stammered embarrassedly.

When she felt his other hand grab her chin, she came to the realization that something was horribly out of place. He squeezed her chin forcefully to the point that it hurt, and raised her face to look at him. The eyes staring back at her were no longer innocent and kind. Though still their beautiful green color, they were filled with cruel intentions. His lips curled up into a smirk. "You are quite lovely," he said in a voice that was a much lower pitch than Rufus's. "For a mortal girl, at least."

"Wynnia!" Ewald shouted. He was now quite aware of the change in Rufus. Whatever had jumped out of him was now in the half-elf.

"What are you doing?" Wynnia asked, fear in her voice. She began to push against him, but he only held her still. "Rufus, stop!"

"Never speak that name again," he crooned in a dark and rich tone, leaning to speak directly into her ear. She scowled to hear her own words used against her. "Call me your lord and nothing else."

Wynnia kicked against him and freed herself from his grasp. She drew her sword and pointed it at him threateningly, holding it steady with both hands. "Whoever you are," she growled, "abandon Rufus's body immediately, or I'll--"

"Or what?" he laughed, dismissing her threat with a wave of his hand. "You wouldn't dare touch your dear love's body with that blade." She glared at him baring her teeth as his eyes scanned carefully over her body. "I must admit though, that you are ravishing holding such a weapon. Like a venomous snake, there is no allure without the poison, is there?"

Wynnia considered attacking anyway, and striking him in a non-vital area. At the thought of Rufus's blood on her hands, the blade began to shake in the air. The intruder to Rufus's flesh saw this and his smirk became a wicked grin. His body flashed and flickered once before disappearing. Ewald shouted again to warn her, but before her name was even out of his mouth, Rufus's form appeared against directly behind Wynnia. Whoever had possessed him knew how to use godly powers that Rufus himself had not mastered with ease. He grasped her firmly around the shoulders and the waist. Angel Slayer was wrested from Wynnia's hand. It slid across the floor and rattled to a stop at Ewald's feet, as if the weapon possessed its own mind.

The intruder to Rufus's body was too preoccupied with Wynnia to care. "And a _virgin_ no less," he said smoothly against her neck. Wynnia felt herself shiver again but this time she did not want to. "I vastly prefer a woman unsoiled by the touch of mortal men... though they do require some instruction."

"Let go of me, you bastard!" she shouted and kicked at him, but this time he would not release her.

Ewald knelt and lifted the silvery white blade from the ground. Now the stranger's eyes fell on him, lips curling up once more as if the thought of his defiance was nothing more than amusing. And, in fact it was ludicrous. Ewald had never used a sword. It was heavy and clumsy in his hands. "Let her go!" he demanded. "Wynnia may not harm that body you are in, but I would relish the opportunity!"

"You are merely a pathetic shadow of what you once were," the dark voice answered. "To see the mortal who defeated me, king of the gods, reduced to such a pathetic state... why, it is a fitting punishment, but also quite sad to see. To think that I was trapped bonded to your soul for so long."

"I said let her go!" Ewald shouted and swung the blade. It was too much for him to wield and missed its target by a wide margin. The god did not even need to use his teleportation magic again, he merely stepped aside, Wynnia firmly in his grasp.

"Odin!" Wynnia hissed.

"Ah, and you do possess some intelligence!" he laughed. "I could search all of Midgard and never find a more suitable toy. Hopefully I will not tire of you soon. This time I do not intend to waste my youth in Midgard."

Ewald quickly thrust the blade at Rufus again. This time he sustained a small nick, just a trickle of blood to stain the pure white blade. Even this small, inconsequential wound infuriated him. He kicked Ewald in the back, sending him flat against the floor. "I will return for my einherjar and my valkyries," he announced. "For now I will let you live in fear."

"Celes! Phyress!" Ewald shouted, trying to get back to his feet. He struggled just to roll over onto all fours. By the time he managed that, a teleportation circle was already forming below Rufus and Wynnia's feet.

Wynnia looked at him with a determined glare in her eyes. "Don't worry about me! Prepare for battle, court mage!" she commanded. Her voice was already fading away. It sounded like the echo from the end of a long, empty hallway.

Ewald shouted for someone who could help him. "Sha-kon! Aegis! Sylphide! Guilm! Uh.. girl with the upside-down cleavage! _Anyone_!"

They ran in as a response to the loud blast, not that loud blasts were all that uncommon in Ewald's lab. Phyress came first, bow strung and ready to fire. "What happened?" she shouted. Her eyes caught the last of Rufus and Wynnia flickering out of sight as Chrystie and Sha-kon joined her. By the time Sha-kon stepped inside, they were gone.

"Where did our sample go?" Sha-kon asked, and helped Ewald to his feet.

"I would assume Asgard," Ewald replied darkly. "Quickly, you must help me to use what little I was able to collect before it ruins..."

He limped in Sha-kon's arms to the container of green liquid at the center of the room, one arm over her shoulder and the other carefully holding the heavy weapon.

Chrystie put her own bow away and went to help them. "You're injured,"she pleaded to him. "Please just rest a moment!"

Phyress was less inclined to feel sorry for him. "What did you do?" she asked with a scowl chiseling into her features. "All I can see is that for some reason Rufus has whisked Wynnia off to Asgard, and you've got his blood on a blade that Wynnia would maim you for so much as touching without her permission!" She crossed her arms and glared at him. "What happened? Was Rufus opposed to the idea of giving you what you needed? So you stabbed him?"

"No!" Ewald coughed as he shoved past her and opened a small tube built to inject samples into the larger canister. "Listen to me, that wasn't Rufus at all! I don't know what happened... I have no idea... but this is the only chance I have to save Lenneth Valkyrie!"

"I am not concerned with some enemy valkyrie!" Phyress shouted.

"Please, just calm down," Sha-kon attempted to persuade her. "Ewald would never do that to Wynnia or Rufus, you know that he wouldn't."

"I'm not _Lezard_," Ewald laughed bitterly. He held the sword's edge over the exposed liquid and administered a drop of it so that the splatter of Rufus's blood left on the blade would drip into the tube and trickle safely into the growing chamber before it was too late. His mind raced even as he handled the delicate work. "We were mistaken to attribute my uncontrollable powers to my soul's history alone," he said. "It wasn't Lezard--wasn't _me_ at all. Wynnia never explained this too me. I think that maybe Alicia was too out of it at the moment to comprehend what was happening, so perhaps she doesn't remember it clearly. But certainly you remember, Phyress."

"Remember what?"

Ewald finished the work and closed the tube. "Didn't Lezard absorb Odin's spirit completely?"

Phyress's eyes opened large. "Yeah, at least that's what we heard."

"And two souls merged in such a manner cannot easily be separated, is that correct?"

"You're right there," Phyress sighed. "We thought that Alicia was really gone for good... that all of them were. We thought that they would be merged forever onwards, but somehow Alicia was strong enough to prevail."

Ewald watched carefully as the bright green color of the liquid inside the tube began to grow into a distinctive blue. He mumbled something under his breath as he examined it. "You shall pay with your soul..."

"What does that mean?"

"The situation looks stable," Sha-kon interjected. She monitored the contents of the tube from another post. "It should begin to grow instantly, and it will take a few hours... but ultimately, things look good for now."

"Thank you, Sha-kon," Ewald said, finally smiling in relief after wearing the most worrisome frown for so long. "You are talented, and I couldn't ask for a lovelier assistant."

"Stow the flattery," Phyress grumbled. "What were you mumbling about?"

Ewald turned, and seeing as how nothing would be happening in that canister for quite some time, he stepped towards his wall of books with a flutter of his cape, sword still in hand. "The last words she said to me," he explained, "and the only words I can remember... Yes, I suppose that this means I am _that_ Lezard, a soul from the future now condemned to live out cursed lives in the past. Her words insinuate that I would perish entirely, soul and all, but perhaps it was a veiled meaning. In fact, my soul became weakened and I lost all memory as well as any knowledge I acquired through the philosopher's stone. A side-effect that none of us counted on was that this means I was, unlike Alicia, too weak to diverge from that soul which I consumed--"

"So let me get this straight," Phyress groaned in disbelief. She looked ready and eager to pull out her hair. "You think that Odin, _king of the gods_ Odin--" 

Ewald chuckled. "I don't know of anyone _else_ called Odin."

"You think that Odin has been in your body this _entire_ time, and chose now to jump into Rufus's body because he is still, physically, a half-elf and by all rights, a vessel of the gods?"

"Odin's own vessel, bred and raised to house his spirit all right," Ewald laughed. "There is no denying that. The fact that Rufus became momentarily incorporeal upon his death mattered very little once he was materialized as an einherjar and later acquired the power of the gods. Why do you think I needed a sample of him? I'm essentially cloning him in the form of a woman. I know it doesn't seem like much of a stretch, but it is quite delicate work. I would say that our chances of success are only ten percent at best. I could have attempted ten times simultaneously and gotten proper results if he were here, but--"

"Okay, enough about your bloody experiment," Phyress cut him off.

"It must have happened when I touched him," he pondered aloud, eyes drifting up to the ceiling in thought. "In any case, if we hope to save Wynnia--let alone Rufus--we will need a valkyrie's assistance. Unless you want to rile the trapped goddess Hrist from her cage, I think that our best opportunity lies with Lenneth.

Phyress rolled her shoulders. "Okay, sure," she finally agreed. "You should let someone treat you. I'll send Sylphide. You won't even have to leave your precious lab.

"Thank you, Queen Phyress." Ewald gave a gracious bow. As he did so, he felt a bit dizzy. Either from being thrown around or from having Odin's soul leave him, he wasn't sure, but he promptly sat down.

As he waited for medical attention, he stared up at the ever-silent crystal containing the spirit of Lenneth Valkyrie. She was so beautiful, her soft features and long silver hair. Though he was pleased to see her face unobstructed, it saddened him that her winged helmet was gone. This seemed to be a symbol of her helplessness and he hoped that she would be able to summon it, along with the rest of her armor, to her body again in his vessel.

Staring up at her gave him the most amazing sense of peace no matter what was going on around him. He supposed it was a bad sign that he felt this way about her, that he was just as prone to infatuation as his previous incarnation, but he didn't care.

He did not care because this time he vowed to do right by Lenneth Valkyrie, to save her and her world.


	13. Unlucky Number

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 13: Unlucky Number**

"What in Hel is happening out there?" Hrist grumbled to herself. She sensed a strange transference of energy down below the castle and wondered if this meant that her sleeping sister had been awakened by Lezard. Lenneth had always been soft on humans just as Silmeria had, but certainly she wouldn't be fool enough to actually participate in this ridiculous scheme. Lezard had somehow tainted Alicia and tricked Rufus into doing something stupid--not that the latter was really any sort of feat of ingenuity as far as she saw things, but that did not change the fact that it was nefarious.

She struck the door once again with her halberd and was given the satisfaction of a noise somewhat different from the usual clatter. The resulting spark was weaker than it had been before. She was getting somewhere!

Fueled by this sense of accomplishment, she continued to assault the barrier. With each round of punishment it grew a little weaker until finally--_finally_ it gave in, and Hrist had been victorious!

The door went flying off its hinges. Hrist shouted a battle cry in victory, and began flying through the castle in all of her rage and fury.

- - -

Golem specialist Sha-kon and the other einherjar who had nothing better to do but give Ewald a hand straightened up the lab after the brief appearance of Odin. Ewald now toted Angel Slayer in a scabbard at his side where normally he only carried a knife. It was heavy even on his waist, and he marveled at how anyone as petite as Wynnia could hold such a weapon. The empowerment of wielding a weapon fit for the gods was all but ruined when he found that he could scarcely hold the thing steady.

But none of that mattered to him now, because finally--_finally! _Lenneth's body was fully formed and Ewald had been victorious! He cackled a string of laughter in his victory.

He stood at the head of the contraption and looked across the room at all who had assembled. There were only two, Sha-kon and Chrystie. The others had gone to sharpen their sword and arrows and whatnot in preparation to save Wynnia. The mages were likely too jealous of his work to lend credit to his accomplishment. Their loss. This was going to be magnificient! "Start the machine!" he bellowed to Sha-kon.

"Sure thing," she replied, lacking the dramatic tone that Ewald would have preferred, and threw a lever on the other side of the lab.

Ewald stopped himself short of scolding her and held his breath in anticipation as machinery began to whirr and multi-colored lights flickered alive on the terminal to indicate that all was well so far. He held his breath, hands itching to abort the process before it reached the point where there was no turning back. If this experiment failed, then Lenneth would be lost to the mortal plane until reincarnated once again. Keeping her in a crystal, however, was a far less acceptable fate.

Soon that moment came, the time when Lenneth's soul was to be released. Ewald bit down on his lip as he pulled the trigger, allowing the crystal containing her spirit to shatter apart. "Please, please please," he mumbled as her ghostly figure became a sparkle of blue light, a radiant spirit free and vulnerable. Something in his heart wrenched at the sight and all in a single, bitter and terrible moment, he knew that he had seen this before.

But this time he could save her. He could do the right thing. His machines gave the shimmering beacon of light a path. They corralled the soul into the chamber where the half-elf body slept in waiting.

How he hoped he had gotten her form correct! He remembered her face, the color and softness of her skin, and the shape of her figure vividly in his mind, but certain _hidden_ aspects had to be guessed at. Most of all, he hoped that her hair was to the valkyrie's liking. He had strained himself to create that feature, since even a lock from a platinum-haired Kalstadian maiden could not compare to hers.

The soul flew into the body waiting for it. Still Ewald held his breath. Breathing was not important right now. The silver-haired homunculi's eyes flitted open. They were deep blue and smokey; absolutely brilliant. They were also very _very_ angry.

And then (as if this had not been happening enough to him lately) a bright flash of light erupted from her and its power pushed him to the floor. Once again he sustained a number of bruises, but he was starting to get used to that. He released his breath and gasped as broken glass and liquid sprayed across the room. Crystie shrieked and Sha-kon made a sharp noise in alarm, but the two could not be farther away as far as he was concerned. He looked up fearing for the worst, but instead of a ruined homunculi before him, there was a pure white being glowing with divine radiance.

The blanket of light parted, pulling away in two pieces from the woman at its center. Her body was bare, and then suddenly encased in a white robe and blue armor as Lenneth Valkyrie's power materialized her attire. Finally rims of gold and the feather-like metal plates adornments which tinkled around her legs at the hem of her skirt were formed. Her helmet appeared on her head, growing pure white feathers as he watched wide-eyed in awe.

Once all of this was in place, Lenneth stood and the wings shrouding her exploded into tiny points of light. They fell like snowflakes through the air and diminished before being given the chance to touch the ground.

Ewald was already prostrate on his knees, but now began bowing in worship. "Lenneth Valkyrie!" he cried. "Oh, I'm so relieved, I thought--_erk_!" He made that last strange noise as the tip of Lenneth's sword was thrust into his face, so near to hitting him that his nose itched and he had to cross his eyes to see the tip of the blade.

"Wait, wait!" Chrystie cried. Lenneth turned her head to the two einherjar, Chrystie, and Sha-kon who stood beside her. "Please, just listen to what he has to say!"

Her head whipped back to Ewald. "You dare capture me within this prison of flesh?" she accused him in a dark, cold voice, humoring the einherjar.

"I-I-It's a half-elf vessel!" he explained quickly, backing away from her sword as she pushed it towards him. "So... you still have all the power of a goddess, and the potential for even greater strength through evolution just like Odin!" he laughed nervously here as the goddess arched a brow suspiciously. "I even made it in this form for you!"

Lenneth eyed him warily. "Why?" she asked him. "So that you could control me?"

"Not at all," he explained, and stood up. His legs shook from excitement and threatened to buckle underneath him. Despite nearly sustaining a concussion _again_, he bowed in the most cordial manner possible. "I am but your humble servant. This was necessary in order to save you."

"_Save_ me?" her voice boomed. "It was you who destroyed my body to begin with!"

"Oh no, that was Odin!" he responded in desperation. "You're rather unfortunate to have been sent to kill a man who was reborn with Odin's soul displaced in him; I'd say this was rather poor planning on Freya's part!"

"I don't sense Odin within you," she replied. "You liar!"

"He was inside of me until just now, I swear to God!" He rethought that last part. "Well not technically to God since that would be Odin, and that doesn't seem like a very logical swear to make given the context--AH!"

Lenneth grew tired of listening to his babbling and jutted her sword at him furiously. "Die, blasphemer!"

Christie and Sha-kon were at a loss as to what to do. Their arrows were not quite defensive weapons, and Lenneth was a valkyrie after all. Ewald felt positively abandoned, and to make things worse, an uninvited guest arrived. As Lenneth seemed to be deciding on just how to impale him, a gust of wind blew through the lab heralding the arrival of yet another very angry reaper of the dead.

"Allow me to deliver the finishing blow!" Hrist commanded, holding out her own sword and scowling at him from beneath the rim of her visor.

Lenneth turned slowly, not at all concerned with Ewald being any sort of threat. Her eyes widened and her stance became rigid. Ewald wondered why Lenneth seemed so surprised to see Hrist there. "You," Lenneth said slowly, cautiously, scanning Hrist. "Who are you?"

Hrist was unsettled by this as well. "Don't you recognize me?" she asked, then immediately turned her sword on Ewald. "What did you do to her?" she demanded to know very loudly, spraying spittle into the mage's face. "She does not recognize her own sister! You have tampered with her memory!"

"No, it was not I," Ewald explained. "Weren't you aware that Odin wipes your memory clean each time you are sent to sleep? I doubt poor Lenneth knows who you are or what your relationship is."

"Do not speak ill of Lord Odin!" Hrist hissed in reply. "Murderer!"

Ewald sighed, very tired of this ex-villian business. "Lezard and I are not one and the same, though I suppose I am unwillingly related to my former lives," he said. "I will not justify his motives or his actions, but I do know that Odin was a poor ruler and if Lezard had not destroyed him, then Silmeria would have. Either that, or he would eventually destroy himself by inviting ruin and chaos to the lands that he and the gods once fought to set with order."

Lenneth glared at Ewald once more. "You halt your blasphemous tongue before I cut it out!"

Hrist did revoke a bit of her aggression--still leaving plenty, of course, but at least her anger was at a simmer rather than a full on boil. "Lenneth, I am Hrist Valkyrie. Do you not know of me?"

Lenneth remained silent, but her silence explained everything. Lenneth both knew and did not know Hrist. The eldest valkyrie seemed unsurprised and willing to accept Ewald's explanation. Her faith in Odin had been shattered. "You and I are part of one whole," Hrist explained, never taking eyes off of Ewald. "There is a third--our sister, the youngest."

"You know this man?" Lenneth hurried on, taking this news of siblings rather well. She had seen the others in their crystals in the place where Freya had summoned her, but those memories were hazy and strange.

"Yes," Hrist answered, returning to full power anger. "He killed all three of us... and our allies."

Ewald found himself staring down two blades pointed into his face. The mage grimaced and swallowed hard as he raised his arms in defeat. "Can't we talk about this, ladies?"

"You be silent!" both valkyries commanded at once. Ewald marveled at how the feathers on their heads shook in a uniform motion.

At this point, Chrystie ran out of the room calling for back up. "Mother!" she shouted. "We have a serious problem!" Sha-kon remained behind, and Ewald gave her looks of chagrin here and there as she stood nervously behind the valkyries, powerless to help him.

"I was sent to save you, Lenneth," Hrist replied. "You and Alicia were captured by this fiendish mage!" At the sound of that, Lenneth's head whipped to Ewald.

"Uh, what?" Ewald stuttered. "Excuse me, but it was Wynnia who kidnapped Rufus! Then Lenneth attacked me, and Odin's spirit within me lashed out and tried to destroy her!"

"A likely story," Hrist growled. Her eyes scanned him up and down. "That sword!" she exclaimed. "Why do you have it? It belongs to her!"

"The princess?" Lenneth asked, greatly confused.

Hrist groaned. "I will have to explain our situation at greater length later on. For now, trust me when I say that this heretic is evil! I'm simply making up my mind as to whether to kill him or capture him. The cycle of rebirth is quite resilient, after all."

Ewald thought perhaps it would be easier if they just killed him. "Like I was _saying_!" he sputtered. "Odin's spirit was inside of me, and he jumped into Rufus! Then, in Rufus's body, Odin kidnapped Wynnia and transported her back to Valhalla! Now if you don't mind, this is all very exasperating. Could I possibly sit down?"

"No!" both valkyries said in the same voice once again.

Ewald sighed and looked to Hrist. Stubborn as she was, she was the most likely to side with him. "Listen... you care about Alicia, don't you?"

"The princess of Dipan?" Lenneth asked. "Are you mad? I was sent here by Freya to execute her!"

"What?" Hrist spat. "I was sent here to bring her back to Valhalla so that Rufus--" Hrist stopped speaking all at once. "I hate to admit this, but there may be some truth to what he says. Odin's soul was very well merged with Lezard, and if this is his reincarnation... and it is rather odd for Freya to be concerned with Rufus's good health."

"I only know what Freya has explained to me," Lenneth replied. "I shall leave this decision to you."

Hrist snarled and returned her piercing, golden-eyed gaze to Ewald. "I should kill you here and now! But you have, in some way, saved Lenneth..."

"We must save Wynnia now," Ewald replied. "Oh, and Rufus too I suppose," he added with a shrug. "I mean, if it's on the way there."

Hrist groaned and sheathed her sword. "I owe it to Alicia to protect Rufus as well. I cannot allow harm to come to him." She began to look idly at her left hand again. She flexed her fingers and then threw her arm down to her side. She raised her chin proudly. "I cannot..."

Leneth relaxed, as much as she ever allowed herself to relax anyway, and looked at Hrist strangely. "What is this mortal to you?"

"An idiot!" she hissed. "I... I certainly don't care about him, it's only a favor!"

"Whatever you say, Hrist," Ewald chuckled. For that, he found Hrist's blade in his face again.

"I _will _kill you!" she threatened.

There were footsteps in the hallway. Phyress and her einherjar once again made an appearance in the lab shortly after, weapons drawn. Hrist scowled begrudgingly and put away her sword. Lenneth went by her lead and put her weapon away as well. Phyress was extremely confused to find Ewald standing safely between two valkyries, neither one of them trying to kill him. Ewald looked very proud of himself, dusting his clothes off and straightening his glasses. "Crisis averted," he said.

"And I thought you were a failure when it came to women," Phyress laughed.

"Surely you jest," Ewald chuckled, wiping the glass of his spectacles with a cloth. "I am a natural-born lady killer."

Both valkyries groaned and exited without indulging their desires to inflict harm upon him.

- - -

The blinding ether of divine power faded away. Wynnia groaned as she found herself in the fields surrounding Valhalla. Rufus--or the godly prick taking up residence inside of him, rather--had whisked her all the way to Asgard more skillfully than Rufus could ever hope to accomplish himself.

It was ironic being here again in the place where she had pulled off her own kid-napping, now in the role of prisoner. At least, Wynnia was pretty sure that was a type of irony. It wasn't as if she'd studied literature often in her pursuit of adventure and epic true love. Maybe that was ironic too, that she was living such a drama and yet had no time to read any herself.

Rufus's arm laid heavily across her chest holding her against him. Even in this situation she couldn't help but notice what strong arms he had, and with an archer's limber physique. "You better let go of me!" She shouted, the observation softening her words. "Don't think I don't notice you pushing my bust up, you pervert!"

"Do not flatter yourself," Odin laughed as he began to stride across the field, sweeping her along like a rag doll. "I am far more interested in your other assets."

"You're interested in my _ass_ets all right," Wynnia answered under her breath, then she began to scream. "Bastard! My nubile flesh is for Rufus's enticement ONLY. You let him go or I'll kill you so hard Queen Hel will feel it!"

"I told you not to speak that name!" he barked in reply. She jumped at the sound, not because she was scared of him particularly, but because as changed as it was, that was still Rufus's voice and she had never heard it so forceful--at least not in this life. Perhaps once before, when he ranted about Odin's treachery. Cosmic irony strikes again.

He stopped, holding her by the wrist only. She pulled as far as she could, but his strong arm held her like an unbreakable shackle. His anger once again flickered into amusement. These emotions seemed to be closely related for him, as if the fight she was giving him was part of the fun of it all. "Hm... let's get you out of that horrible frock and into something more appropriate," he crooned.

"If you think I'm taking my clothes of, you're dead wr--" before she spat out what he was dead about, he snapped his fingers. A sparkle of ethereal magic wisped around her body, carrying flower petals inadvertently up from the ground (which sort of added to the whole "transformation" effect) in a spectacle of light and color.

When the shine dissipated, she found herself outfitted in Aesirian garb. It was a thin, blood red fabric that fit her like a second skin, leaving very few of her body's shapes to the imagination. The skirt--if you could call it that--was so high that her crotch would be on full display if she did anything more than stand with her legs pressed firmly together. She wore one of those silly pointed hats of the same color on her head, and pure white stockings that hugged her thighs so tightly that her skin appeared to plump out around the hem. The get-up was very like Freya's, she was disgusted to see.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" she asked with a scowl.

Odin shrugged, giving a cocky expression a little too similar to one of Rufus's for Wynnia's comfort. With his beautiful face, she could almost believe that it was his soul sparkling through, like the sun on a cloudy day. "Red is appealing on you," he laughed. "And your legs are adorned in white for now, as a mark of your purity." He raised a hand to his chin and his green gemstone eyes scanned over her yet another time. "Yes, and later I shall peel them off, and soon after you shall have no need of such a symbol."

"Blechk!" Wynnia choked. "Is that why Freya doesn't wear any socks?"

"Come, mortal girl!" he demanded, yanking on her arm and ignoring that question.

- - -

Another god stormed into the throne of Valhalla arguing about the petty offenses some other god had made to him or her. Causing a battle, for example--or more likely _not_ causing one--or taking sacrifices that weren't meant for them, or otherwise indulging in godly behaviors when they weren't needed to. They then promptly stormed out again even angrier than they had been, after Freya told them that their complaints were petty. It wasn't bad enough that the gods were acting in such lowly ways, but to see them tattle on each other to her like children was even worse. She knew quite well that they are all guilty of the same sin.

Freya quickly realized how boring Rufus's job had been. No wonder he was unhappy; this keeping the peace between gods was mind-numbing. Their squabbles seemed so trivial now that she wasn't merely an assistant, but Queen of the Cosmos. A wave of her hand could very well level it all back to nothingness. Even the differences between gods and mortals were beginning to look not so huge.

Mortals weren't starting to look better at any rate, however. It was the gods who were lowering themselves to their level. Freya still hated mortals. They were dumb, ungrateful, and took everything from her that she had ever found any joy in. Odin was gone. Odin's successor was gone. Hrist and Lenneth were gone! She wrung her hands as she thought about it. Seething was the only way that she could pass the time.

_The gods take and give nothing in return. _Freya once thought that Silmeria's words (as repeated by the regretful Hrist) were not only preposterous, but an offense to the existence of the gods and the natural order of the universe. As she watched what these spoiled gods argued about in their abundant spare time, she wondered if there was not some truth to this. If only the days of old could be revived--she and Odin leading legions against the giants and the undead. Oh, those had been glorious time.

"Reminiscing?" came a youthful male voice. The very sound of it echoing through the otherwise empty throne room ruined Freya's already less than remarkable day.

"And how do you know, trickster?" she bellowed, letting her voice echo against the walls of the throne room.

"You always get a certain sparkle in your eyes when you think about Lord Odin," he laughed as he materialized in the chamber, a smirk playing on his sharp features. All at once he flashed across the room and appeared much too close to Freya for her liking, draping himself over the armrest of her throne. "Won't you bring Rufus back? Pretty please?"

"Ha!" Freya chortled, warping herself to an acceptable distance from the god of mischief. "You _would_ miss him, wouldn't you?" she groaned. "He's the only one who falls for your ridiculous tricks."

"Oh no, it's not that!" Loki promised, leaning against the now-empty golden throne. "His gullibility is old and boring. No, I like simply what he represents! A chance to break free from our fates--a chance to upset the gods and watch them run around like chickens decapitated for a mortal supper. I want you to bring him back, Freya. Do it, or I shall have to--oh I don't know, maybe I'll revolt or something just to keep things interesting."

"I'm _trying_ to do that!" she responded, flashing her teeth in anger. "Why don't you do something useful and find a vessel for me to use?"

Loki tilted his head, bemuzed. "Don't you have a spare valkyrie?" Loki replied. "Sure, Odin set things in order to keep them out one at a time, but that was for very... let's say... _special_ reasons," he smirked knowingly, receiving a suspicious glare from Freya in return. "With Gungnir, you could grant them the power to exist side by side, it's not impossible."

"I have considered that," Freya sighed. "I cannot go myself or Asgard might perish in the meantime, and I cannot trust any gods but the Valkyrie trinity to obey me," she explained. "And yet I cannot trust Silmeria, the one who betrayed me, any more than I could trust you!"

"I was meant not to be trusted," Loki replied. "Deception is in my blood. But Silmeria, she was made to be loyal. Perhaps her treachery, in reality, is the truest form of loyalty. I say give her a chance."

Freya scowled. Both he and Frei were for some reason fond of Silmeria, the so-called "kindest" of the valkyries. Loki was still laughing at Freya's less than amused expression when an Aesir woman ran into the throne room in a hurry, shaking in excitement. Both he and Freya looked up, wondering who would dare to interrupt them. "He's returned!" she exclaimed.

"Who has?" Freya asked, raising her chin with mild interest.

"Our lord!" the female guard replied. Her features lit up like a child's in sheer joy. "He has finally returned!"

"Looks like you may not need to call on Silmeria after all," Loki chimed just before leaving the area in a flash of light.

Freya gave no heed to Loki's swift exit, or even to the strangeness of why an Aesir would be excited about Rufus's return. She leapt into the air where she remained floating. "Where?" she demanded to know desperately. "Where is he now?"

"The fields," she replied. "Isn't it the most wonderful news?"

Freya was already teleporting herself away.

- - -

She appeared on the fields where a group of gods had already assembled, gathering around their returned lord. Freya pushed her way past the likes of Baldr and Thor, able to see the top of his emerald-haired head, holding her breath.

"Rufu--" she started to cry out, and then her eyes fell on the mortal girl at his side--the very one who had captured him. She was dressed in Aesir garments, the blasphemy! And though she appeared distraught, the young god's hand was firmly grasped about her wrist.

"Ah, Freya," he greeted her in a smooth tone of voice that was completely unlike him. "How kind of you to keep my throne warm in my absence."

Freya backed away a step. She looked at the girl, the princess of Dipan whom she so wanted to strangle, and saw something unexpected in her eyes. There was fear there as well as the shame of defeat. "Rufus," she said, looking back to his face. His eyes expressed cruel intent. "What is the meaning of this?"

"That name shall be forbidden in my kingdom henceforth!" he demanded, growing cross and loud suddenly. The other gods agreed to this with a rousing cry of approval. He smiled, looking with eyes that glittered in challenge to Freya. "I suppose if you must refer to that... _other_, you may use the word _vessel._"

Freya met his eyes without hearing his words at all, and could no longer deny that gods felt emotions. Her heart both sung and sank and she felt her eyes tingle with the sensation of tears building where they had not done so since before she could remember. "Lord Odin," she said softly, clutching her chest where her heart--which felt--lied beneath. "You... I thought that you were gone..."

"I can see that very well!" he answered in a bitter tone. "Inviting my enemy into my home and serving him! How can you bear the shame of it?"

Freya frowned and turned her eyes down, clenching her fists by her sides. "We had no choice. He who wields Gungnir is the ruler of Asgard and we are bound to serve him. It is the law!"

_"_"No, Lady Freya," he sneered, inching closer to her with that piercing malice that did not belong in Rufus's eyes staring her through. "_I_ am the ruler of Asgard, and Gungnir belongs to _me_. Anyone else who dares to hold it is an imposter and all those who serve him are traitors to the true king."

Freya stared at him speechlessly. "You do not mean to insinuate that I am bound by that rule as well?" she gasped. "What would you have me do? Allow Asgard to perish?" She waved her arm wide at the gods present, all who stared at her with distrustful looks. "It was your flock which appointed me--who suggested that I succeed you after Rufus was taken!"

Thunder clapped in the distance as Odin spoke next. "I said _do not_ use that name."

It was at this point that the princess of Dipan made an attempt to whip her hand away--one that failed, but was admirable nonetheless--and decided to object. "Don't give him anything!" she shouted. "That treasure is yours, Rufus said it was right!"

"Especially you, mortal wench!" he snapped, shaking her until she shrieked back and her arm was bruised.

"And who is _this_?" Freya hissed, taking t the air. She floated above the ground as if frothing in anger.

"My trophy," he explained, puffing his chest out. "The world in Midgard and every soul within belongs only to me, and I find this one to my current tastes."

"Despicable!" Freya spat, and turned to her fellow gods. "Do you see how he has changed? To take mortals as pets? To lie with them as humans would? The Odin who founded our world would never have done such a thing!"

Thor stepped forward, as the others remained silent. "It is you who have changed, Lady Freya," he said in a dark, grumbling voice. "You and your valkyries have become softened by mortal sentiment. Brahms infected Silmeria this a poison, and it has spread all the way to you, their commander."

Odin smirked. "Funny that you should criticize me for lying with mortals!" he chuckled. "Aren't you in love with the pathetic soul who once inhabited this vessel?"

Her eyes opened even wider in shock and disgust. Freya shouted, her voice just as thunderous as Odin's. "You fool! It is _you_ who I have loved! Have you never known that?" She clutched her hands in front of herself in frustration, begging for understanding and threatening him all at once. I helped you to attain godhood when you were no more than a mortal half-elf yourself! I was your ally in the first war! Without me you could never have acquired Gungnir! All because I admired you and what you wanted for all the worlds! Order and balance--"

"None of which can be found in love," he laughed, mocking her words with his tone. "Oh, Freya. If that is how you feel then you are more mortal now than can be redeemed."

Freya inhaled deeply, and then released the breath. She looked at her feet, then slowly up the body which once belonged to a young and naive creature who had slowly but surely been learning what it meant to be a god. The only child in Asgard, the only one of them with potential; murdered by her old comrade and most trusted friend--a friend who now took little care in veiling a conspiracy to destroy her. Her old mistake had come back from the dead to kill the only second chance that she would ever receive. She raised her head until their eyes met and she knew that the man she loved was as dead as he had been the day that the mage from Midgard destroyed him, and even before that.

"Do you intend to fight me?" she said in a low, smooth tone.

"No," Odin replied. "I expect you to hand Gungnir to me, and then return to the Vanir if you take issue with my rule."

There were mumbles among the gods of "yes, go back to the Vanir!" and the likes of that in different words.

Freya wasn't certain that she could fight Odin. With Gungnir she could attempt it, but Asgard would crumble in the upset. More importantly, killing both Odin and Rufus in one stab was something that she would be unable to go through with, even if she made herself cold and froze out her feelings again.

"Ye gods!" cried a voice from the back. The gods in question lifted their heads and parted a path between Odin and the owner of the voice--Frei, a sister whom Freya was uncertain she could trust. "Remember who holds the treasure of Asgard, fools!"

Odin smirked, finding the girl's intervention deliciously amusing, but nothing of a threat. "And just what do you think you can do?"

Frei mimicked his cold grin surprisingly well. "You think that you have us all under your control, don't you?" she tittered. "You know, I always wanted to know what it was like for you to be mortal. You can't even remember it, can you? That you were mortal?"

"That's enough of this game," Odin said. "Make way. The king has returned."

Frei ignored his declaration and joined her sister by her side. Freya looked at her seemingly younger sibling with caution and a fleeting bit of hope. "Frei--"

Frei smiled innocently and shrugged in a childish manner. "Don't worry, Frey-frey. We have a few friends still. Every once in a while, we have to have ourselves a war between gods. Otherwise it would get boring. So let old man Odin have his fling and sit on his big shiny chair again."

She turned, smiled sweetly to Odin, and said her last statement. "Without Gungnir, he'll soon remember that he's really nothing without you."

Freya felt her sister's magic envelop her and the two were swept away. They disappeared from the presence of those gods that blindly followed Odin, leaving the princess of Dipan to fend for herself. Freya wasn't sure whether she hoped more that he would hurt her (because, this was all started by her, in a way) or if she would like to see Odin kicked in the teeth by the object of his mortal lust.

Both, preferably.


	14. Heaven's Troubles

**Angel Slayer**

**Chapter 14: Heaven's Troubles**

The mood on the fields of Asgard after Freya and Frei's dramatic exit was one of silent denial. Odin stood, a smirk on his lips as if he had been triumphant in some argument; but knew as well as the gods did that Freya had out done him by making away with Gungnir.

Wynnia grimaced and stopped fighting against his pull. Without her sword, even if she were to overpower him, it wasn't as if she could do his godly form any harm. She allowed him to lead her through the ranks of the Aesir who stood proudly to each side in neat lines. What a pathetic show, she thought--that such powerful gods would bow to this guy.

As they passed the last of them, the gods turned to followed their king back to his hall where the throne awaited. As they walked, Wynnia saw Odin's attire change as well, transforming from the ornate but fundamentally simple traveler's clothing that was suited to Rufus to an extravagant silver garment that covered him from neck to toe. "You could at least wait until you're inside to change into your pajamas!" she griped at him. "I see! You're nothing but an old pervert who lays around in his underwear bossing people around!"

He turned to her and smiled. Though his eyes appeared to grow soft and more familiar, the smile on his lips was far too suave to ever have belonged to Rufus. "I am an old soul," he agreed, a touch of bitter humor in his voice. He spoke low and close to her ear, guarding his excitement from the other gods. "But this body is young and verile. Most importantly; unlike its previous owner, I know how to use it."

"Stop whispering in my ear!" she shouted as shivers ran down her spine. "You know what? I'll say Rufus all I want! Rufus, Rufus, _Rufus_!"

Odin laughed boisterously. "You'll be calling out one name again and again soon enough, and it will not be his!"

"Uhg! This isn't _happening_," Wynnia moaned, raising her free hand to clutch at her hair in frustration.

- - -

As someone perfectly capable of transporting herself through the fabric of space at will, Freya did not enjoy being teleported around by someone else. The intensity of the situation had been entirely robbed and Freya was ready to nag Frei for interrupting. She was not yet calm when they reappeared in an unfamiliar place, but the shock of it stopped her from lashing out for a moment.

Freya returned to floating under her own power as she looked about herself in her new surroundings. It was a large, empty place with glorious vaulted ceilings lit only by the sparkle of sun which filtered through crystal skylights far overhead. It was as splendorous in silver as Valhalla was in gold. Though decorated with marble and precious crystal, this hall was not finished and its construction appeared entirely abandoned. Tiles were arranged in perfect order until a point at which they began to scatter without logical direction.

"Where are we?" Freya demanded. Her voice echoed loudly, allowing her to get a taste of just how sharp she really was.

"This is the hall Sessrumnir," Frei explained in a much softer tone.

"Sessrumnir?" Freya repeated, spitting a bit as she pronounced the sounds angrily. "What domain does it exist within? I have never heard of such a thing!"

Frei sighed and stepped past her sister to gaze down the halls, pitying their incomplete state. "It was meant to be a gift from Lord Odin to you, Lady Freya... but he never completed it."

"A gift?" Freya repeated in a breath, looking closer at her surroundings. "I do not remember this construction at all!"

She frowned at the sound of Loki's voice echoing through the halls. "You don't remember very much, I'm terribly afraid," he sighed as he materialized in the hall. Light reflected from its sparkling walls for a brief moment and then the hall was dead once again. Loki's footsteps echoed against the marble floors as he approached, holding his arms open in greeting but not without a cocky swagger in his step. "Tell me, Freya...do you remember the origin of the Valkyrie trinity? They are Aesir, so they must be Odin's children."

Freya's eyes narrowed like a prowling cat's. "Are you suggesting that these things were hidden from me by Odin all along?" she snarled, still jilted by their less than happy reunion.

"Behind your back, but not for the reasons you assume," Loki went on with a laugh, "Young Odin was a sentimental fool who made far too many mistakes and eventually paid with his very soul."

"What are you doing here, Trickster?" Freya groaned, choosing to ignore his explanation.

Loki shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and sighed. "I told you that if I got bored, I might just have to start a rebellion. You're just lucky that I always side with the underdogs."

Freya glanced to Frei and then to Loki again. "Is that why the two of you have brought me here?"

"I am on your side, Freya," Frei explained. "We don't wish for Odin to be reinstalled as the king of Asgard."

"Would you rather Rufus be placed on the throne?" she scoffed, and turned her eyes away.

"Why no," Loki replied. "Although it might be nice to have the young blood around for kicks... we want you to rule Asgard, Freya--rule and bring some change to this accursed land for once."

Surprised by their show of support, Freya raised her head and looked up at them attentively. "Change?"

Loki exhaled deeply and threw his arms up into the air. "No more of this stifling divine posturing! No more petty arguments and boring acts of appeasement to keep these stupid, domesticated gods from bickering with each other." He recovered from what looked like a bout of nausea from the thought and thrust his arm out, palm open and reaching to Freya. "I say we change this world!"

Freya was not moved or even so much as amused by Loki's selling tactics. "What sort of change did you have in mind?" she asked him toyingly. "Hm? It isn't in your character to act on heroism or to seek justice. How would this benefit you?"

Loki's shoulders slumped in exhaustion. "Yes, keeping that good-guy routine up _is_ rather difficult," he sighed as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "But honestly, Freya, I'm just looking for a good excuse to stir things up a bit. I am so bored here! This world is so static and sickening, I would have liked to see it destroyed! But then those humans overthrew Odin and I saw a light of hope, that perhaps we can change things. I can't let things go back to the way that they were, or else I may as well simply destroy the universe!"

"And we wouldn't want _that_ to happen," Frei chimed in cheerily, holding up a finger on that note.

Freya decided that this was as good a reason as any. "And Frei, are you simply bored as well?"

"I don't wish to see Odin back either," she said in distaste, sticking her nose up. "He's a mean old goat!"

"Very well," Freya agreed. She took a glance around the halls once more, these that were meant for her. Odin had cared for her at some point in time, and then he had given up, abandoned his pursuits. The unfinished halls laid long-forgotten. Taking a breath and pushing this foreign emotion aside, she placed her hands on her hips and began to take command. "I have Gungnir under my control, but even its power may not be enough."

"Yes," Loki added with a nod, "because you would never use its power to the extent it was meant to be. It matters not which treasure is in your hands if you fear using it."

"To use it recklessly would bring ruin to Asgard," Freya insisted.

Loki held his hands up defensively. "I know, I know," he reassured her. "Never you worry. My intellect and cunning is a power to be feared, and we do have a powerful ally..."

With that, Freya noticed Loki fall silent and turn his head to Frei. Frei's lips scrunched up in anger. "Oh, Loki!" she hissed. "You promised you would never tell!"

Loki chuckled, noticing Freya's very confused expression. "Frei is a force to be reckoned with, you may or may not know," he explained, bowing and motioning his arm as if to present the childish goddess to an audience. "This girl is not Frei's true form, in any case. Frei, a powerful god, is still worshiped by the elves of Alfheim. This appearance you see, and this life that she lives, all are simply to escape the confines of fate... and to fool Odin into believing that she is but a minor goddess with no real power."

"And to fool me as well?" Freya grimaced.

"Well, you were always running around doing whatever he says without thinking," Frei pouted. "It's not my fault!"

Freya frowned even more deeply than she had before, and turned to consider this. "I do not regret serving Odin in the past. This treachery against my lord is inexcusable... yet, the current situation does demand drastic action." She made up her mind and turned back to them. "Very well. I will accept your assistance."

Frei squealed in excitement. "Yay!"

After tapping her foot on the unfinished floors a few times, she spun on her heel and scowled at Loki. "You are the schemer. I assume you've got a plan of action in mind?"

Loki nodded wisely. "We need a valkyrie," he explained. "With a valkyrie on our side, we can put the einherjar to use and hold some leverage with the gods. You may fear using Gungnir, but I am quite sure you wouldn't fear throwing to waste a few human souls."

"There is no commodity that should be wasted," Freya replied, remembering Hrist's final objection. "I will not throw them away as carelessly as Odin did."

"A valkyrie should take our side then," Loki replied. "And as you are quite aware, Silmeria is the last one available to us."

"And time is of the essence!" Frei piped up, hopping on her heels with the most serious and determined expression on her face. "If Odin has fully regained his power, he is able to use the sovereign's rite. Of course, without your power of the divine seal he can't fully erase their memories, but Silmeria's spirit is already fragmented. There's no telling what he might do to her if he considers her a threat." Then she looked away, sighing. "If she can't be swayed then we should send her to the human world to be out of Odin's grasp."

Loki cackled a laugh. "What a nice way of suggesting we murder one of our own!"

Freya nodded, making her decision. "I will take care of it either way," she said. "I will strike now, while Odin assumes that I am licking my wounds."

"Beware of Odin," Frei said in parting. "And beware of the girl that he has stolen. There is more to her than meets the eye. I doubt that even Odin knows exactly what he has gotten himself into."

After a skeptical glance back at her 'sister,' Freya began to transport herself away. "You have my gratitude," she said as she flickered out.

- - -

Wynnia found the trek across Asgard rather unnecessary, since Odin could most certainly phase to any place he wanted to. It was all a show to reestablish himself as the gods' head honcho. Soon they reached Valhalla, where the grandeur of the halls failed to impress her. Odin was obviously waiting for gasps of awe to escape from her lips, and frowned deeply when there were none.

"So it's big," Wynnia huffed, turning her nose up. "All it makes me think is that you must be compensating for something."

Odin paid no mind to this and marched onwards into his hall, pulling her along. Wynnia found his vice-like grip so annoying that she considered gnawing off her hand at the wrist to be free from it, but there was no chance to escape. She would have to be cunning and wait.

The halls seemed to stretch on forever, the expanse of them made Wynnia sick of crimson carpets and golden fixtures. It was more painful still to know that she was retracing steps last walked as Alicia in a life which denied her a future. Then something occurred to her that lit her face with hope and excitement. _Silmeria!_ Rufus had been keeping Silmeria safe in Asgard! Oh, surely Silmeria could save her and poor Rufus from this mess! She just had to buy some time until the valkyrie came to her aid.

The gods followed by Odin as an entourage. "Is that a human woman you have there?" asked one goddess, sneering at Wynnia in distaste. "How droll!"

"Oh, the Lord doth amuse himself," laughed an effeminate young man who was also part of the posse. Several more less notable lackeys hovered around wearing uniforms.

Thor passed through and began to walk side-by-side with him, oblivious to all of the chatter around him. "Ah, Father of Asgard, you have returned at last!" he exclaimed in relief. "Now finally all of our matters of state can be solved. Lady Freya I must admit was getting to be quite the slacker--"

"And what have _you_ been taking in your own hands?" Odin responded bluntly. "You could have procured the Dragon Orb whilst I was away, or better yet--find that wretched sword, Levantine. Neither Lady Freya nor myself would care if the cursed underworld crumbled into dust." 

Wynnia watched the jolted expression appear on Thor's face as the great and powerful god stumbled on a step and had to skip like a school girl at hopscotch just to keep up with Odin's forced pace. "Oh, great idea," she groaned, holding her palm over her face in dismay. "Just destroy Nifleheim and let all of the evil spirits locked up there roam free over the worlds, that's just a right dandy plan Mr. King of the Gods."

Thor was even more taken aback by the human's audacity than Odin's ruthless methods. "My Lord, that human speaks terrible offenses to the gods! ...Would you like me to punish her for you?"

Odin began to chuckle. "Oh, just think of this as my trophy from Midgard. She is here merely to keep me entertained in ways that you Gods cannot. It is beneath you to listen or respond to her."

"You fools!" Wynnia shouted to the gods that followed them, all the while being dragged along. "Don't you see that you were all better off with Freya?" Odin finally tired of her outbursts and clapped a hand over her mouth, strong-arming her to walk in front of him. She tried her hardest to bite his palm, but to no avail. When she started to kick and fuss, he sighed tiredly and decided to use a spell of teleportation.

Wynnia once again felt dizziness overcome her along with the stomach-turning sensations of being dropped. It was different from Ewald's spells, which simply made the world melt around her and form back into place. This was like being ripped from one plane to the other. Her body flashed hot for a split-second, and then she was somewhere else.

They were in the throne room now. Odin hovered over the illustrious golden platform and the highest seat in the four worlds. He held her in his arms like a groom carrying his bride across their threshold. Not only was he holding her captive with his physical strength now, he also used some sort of magic to envelop her and hold her still. She could struggle against it, but it felt as if she was rolled in a thick blanket. When she attempted to shout at the indignation, she found that her mouth would not open.

He lowered softly into his seat, letting her sink into his lap. He seated her on his right thigh and held her firmly there with his arm, slouching into the throne. "Now behave," he said in a patronizing tone. "This is not fair, I know. Please understand; I enjoy every moment that you struggle, but I do have appearances to keep up while in court."

Wynnia managed to push out a high-pitched "Hmf!" in retort, though her lips were sealed.

The gods caught up, pouring into the throne and bowing before it one after the other in a line. Odin sighed. "Allow me to settle this business," he said, as if apologizing to Wynnia, then he waved his arm to the goddess crouched closest to him with her head bent in reverence. "So what is it you want?" he asked her. "Oh, and just who are you again?"

"Sif, my lord," she answered. "Er... Thors wife?"

"Oh, yes, yes," Odin replied apologetically, then turned to Wynnia as if no one else could see him and shrugged as if he had no idea what the woman was talking about. "What ails you, Lady Sif?"

"The fields of wheat in Midgard have been growing so tall and golden that it competes with my hair for beauty!" she wailed sadly. "My hair is supposed to be the most golden thing in all the worlds. It's so embarrassing! "

"So burn their fields down," Odin replied sharply. "Next?"

"_What_?" Wynnia shouted. Either she had managed to break through Odin's seal through sheer force of will, or he had intentionally slipped up. Either way, it quickly corrected itself and the obscenities she was about to blurt came to a halt.

"I am Ran," said the next goddess, whose cloaks were bright azure blue and seemed to float on the air of their own accord. "Goddess of the sea? Yes, well... since Dipan was destroyed, there hasn't been a sea-faring nation at war in quite a while. My halls which were once filled with the souls of sailors drowned at sea are now empty!"

"Hm, what to do?" Odin pretended to ponder deeply. "Oh, just convince Crell Monterfrainge that they are entitled to the southern islands. That should cause a few shipwrecks." He straightened up in his chair a bit and raised his hand to make an example. "To make this quick, how about everyone whose problem can be solved by making war or otherwise destroying something on Midgard raise their hand." At this point, nearly everyone in the room held a hand up in the air. "Well, that is the heart of the matter. I suggest you all cease your bickering and do what it is you are expected to do as Aesir. Get to it, and stop crowding my throne room, if you would."

The gods and goddesses cleared the room, their heavy steps causing a clatter. Some grumbled at the scolding they received, while others chattered about how wonderful it was to finally be getting things done. Soon after, the throne room was empty and the clamor of the gods was no more than an echo from distant halls. The grand door shut swiftly with a single clap of noise like thunder.

"Ah, finally," Odin sighed in relief, letting Wynnia free from the incantation she was under. Wynnia jumped up like an untrained pet free of its leash, completely unsure of where she might go but she that she needed to go _somewhere_. She ran a few steps and then began to spin around frantically looking for a way out. Golden arches and panes that appeared to be windows surrounded the throne room, but they looked out into nothingness; possibly into different worlds. None of them would provide an exit. There were no doors save for the entrance, and it would certainly not open for her. Without her allies and her weapon Wynnia had never felt so powerless, and that was what stung the most bitterly.

"What kind of ruler are you?" she shouted accusingly, turning back to face Odin, who slouched ungracefully in his throne, legs crossed, leaning his elbow onto the armrest to support his lazy chin. "Such petty concerns I've never heard!"

"That is precisely why I instructed them to take care of their own business," Odin replied with a shrug, waving his hand to make an unconcerned gesture.

Wynnia sneered. "You should have told them that their concerns were frivolous in the first place! All you've really done is cast all of the work onto other people!"

"You would never understand," Odin said slyly, slinking from the chair to stand. He walked smoothly towards Wynnia, who stood straight and waited for him. There was no way to escape and running only humiliated her. "Hair is just hair to a human being after all," he began. Wynnia cringed as he threaded his fingers through her hair, brushing her ear with his fingers as he did. "A god is a creature that can only be defined by the aspect of the world that they oversee. If no one dies at sea, then to Ran it is the same as what a mortal may think of as 'dead.' If there is no war, then the god of war ceases to exist. And if you are as unfortunate as Sif, then your entire existence is purely superficial. And it cannot be any other way."

Wynnia sneered. "Why can't it?"

"Because gods cannot change," Odin replied. "They lack the ability to do so."

"Except for one like you," Wynnia countered. "One who has both mortal and immortal flesh. That is why you should be the one to rule them and show them the way!"

Odin threw his hands into the air, once again unsettling Wynnia by making a gesture similar to one that Rufus might have naturally made. "Oh, I am bound by that rule as well," he sighed. "I am the king. Even if I wish not to be, if I am not the king then what am I?'

"It must be horrible to live so long," Wynnia sighed. "It truly saddens me to know that the gods who have kept Midgard under their thumb for centuries are bound by such nonsensical rules."

Odin't eyes slanted back to her. "Is that pity, lovely human?"

Wynnia placed her hand on her hips and pursed her lips, preparing her next words. Odin waited a beat longer than she would have expected. "I suppose it is," she admitted, finding nothing snarky to say, and quite sure that he would only enjoy it even if she did.

He raised his hands to touch her face. This time she objected, writhing away from his touch, but he caught her round the waist and held her still. He swept his fingers across her cheek, pushing the hair out of her face. "It does not hurt so much to look at you," he said. "Though your face is so much like hers..."

"Whose?" Wynnia asked sharply. "It's Freya who you really want, isn't it?" she asked him in a desperate, accusing voice as he tugged her closer, running his hand through her hair and along the curves of her body. "I don't look like her at all!"

"Not Freya," he replied in a soft tone. "No, not Freya at all, but her sister."

"Frei?" Wynnia gaped in disgust. "She looks about thirteen years old!" Then she gasp sharply realizing that Frei didn't wear any socks either. "You perverted bastard!"

"Not Frei!" Odin grumbled in disgust. "No, I speak of Freya's equal, a spiritual counterpart--"

"I don't really see the difference!" Wynnia shouted, wishing most strongly that he would just stop touching her.

"Freya is my loyal servant!" Odin declared loudly, grasping Wynnia tight. "You cannot have a servant and a love in one being, or it simply is not any _fun_." With the last word, he turned her chin sharply upwards. Wynnia released a squeal of pain. "So I created the perfect goddess, the one who has everything--and she is finally complete. She has finally been purified and refined, my Lady of the Aesir!"

"Gah," Wynnia wailed. "Sicko!"

Odin sneered, confused more than angered by this accusation. "What?"

"Well," Wynnia began to explain, hoping that she could buy some time. For what, she didn't know. "The Aesir gods and goddesses are created by you, which makes you their father--the All-Father in fact--and so, if you were to marry--or let's be serious here, not _marry_ so much as have your way with--one of your own goddesses--well, that would make you a sick perverted freak, sticking it to your own daughter!"

Odin allowed her to ramble, but paid no attention to the meaning of her words. He grazed her lips with his fingers as she moved them desperately, trying to distract him with speech. She felt the tips of them intrude into her mouth and stroke her tongue. "I allowed her to become something else... because humans are quite warm inside, you see," he spoke against her ear.

Wynnia bit down firmly onto his fingers with all of the rage she had built up, putting it all into her jaws and hoping above all else that Rufus could forgive her for damaging his fingers. Odin snarled and whipped his hand out of her mouth, released her, and shook his fingers. Wynnia felt a surge of energy enter her body after this accomplishment, feeling that there was some hope. "The same thing will happen to anything you try and stick in my mouth, you had best remember that!"

Then he raised his hand, no longer expressing any agony, and Wynnia sunk back into her defeated stance. "Pain means very little to me," he said, holding his fingers to show her how they had endured enough of a bite to tear through a mortal's hand without so much as a mark. "It is little more than the salt that keeps a delicacy from being too sweet. I shan't be entertained if you will not put up at least _some_ fight."

He lunged at her in a quick and fluid motion, catching her in the same unbreakable hold as before. Her feet left the ground and he swept her across the floor until her back slammed violently into the back wall of the throne, against the door which would never open to release Wynnia. Her face turned up, forcing her eyes to follow the golden columns that stretched into the vaulted ceiling above. The back of her head hit the metal door hard enough to make her dizzy. The ethereal light shining from the heavens made the glitter that began to float around in her peripheral vision more obnoxious. In even amounts of pain and anger, she screamed through the throbbing in her skull

"You are too fragile," he responded and kissed her cheek. "I apologize, I will be more gentle with you."

His grasp on her arms loosened, but remained impossible to escape from. His lips pecked her affectionately on her cheeks, her ears, and her neck. This change in attitude to gentleness was surprising but not at all comforting. He began to kiss her collarbone, intent on traveling lower. She kicked and squirmed, but all for naught. "Get out of Rufus's body, you bastard!" she screamed, tears of frustration muddying her vision.

"Did I not specifically instruct you not to use that name?" Odin sneered, rising up again to glare into her eyes. Gentleness forgotten, he smacked her across the face with his palm.

"Rufus!" Wynnia shouted as her only method of resisting. "I won't believe that you're gone--that you've died! Come back, please!"

Wynnia saw in the rage in his eyes that she had struck upon something that enraged her captor, for better or worse. "That is quite enough!" Odin demanded furiously. "I have had enough of your futile mortal sentiment!"

"Rufus, _please_..." she whispered. "I _need_ you."

"Ah--" Odin mumbled. His expression became confused and off-guard. Wynnia saw her chance and balled her fist. She pulled it back and quickly punched him with all of her might, sending him backwards.

"Take that!" she shouted as she attacked him, slapping and pounding on him with her hands. "And that and that and that!"

"Ah! Ah!" he shouted, trying to grab at her arms to stop her. "Wynnia, it's me, it's Rufus!"

Wynnia panted, having been so desperate to gain some ground that she neglected to notice the change in his voice. "Oh, Rufus!" Wynnia cried. Her voice lit up with joy as she smothered him in an embrace, sending him back several steps. "That punch must have brought you back! Oh, if only I had hit you in the face sooner!"

Rufus was nearly tackled over by her strength. "Uh... well actually, I regained consciousness a few seconds right _before_ you hit me in the face."

"Oh my!" Wynnia grimaced in guilt and chewed on her nails as she inspected the damage, which was thankfully minimal. "Terribly sorry, are you all right?"

"Fine, but Wynnia," Rufus's hands tightened around her wrists and unwrapped her arms from his chest. Then he pushed her away. "You have to run. Right now."

"What?" Wynnia answered, hope crushed. "What are you talking about? Let's hurry back to Dipan so that Ewald can fix you!"

"No, that won't work," Rufus continued, aggressively this time, pushing her towards the door to the throne room. "He is too strong--much stronger than I am. He will resurface any second. You have to be as far from me as you can be when that happens!"

"But--No!" Wynia stood her ground and shook her head firmly. "I won't run and leave you here!"

"I guess it comes to this then," Rufus said with a bitter laugh. "It always comes to this with us, doesn't it?"

Wynnia watched as he kicked the door to the throne room open while pulling her by the wrists. "What are you doing?" she shouted. She watched utterly confused as he pulled his ring from his finger and placed it in her hands. She looked down at it and then up at him again. The expression on his face was so serious and unlike him that she feared that Odin had consumed him.

"Goodbye, Wynnia," he said as he pushed her through the door, then slammed it shut behind her.

"Rufus!" Wynnia yelled, finding herself suddenly in the hallway outside the throne room. She banged her fists on the heavy gold-plated door. "Cut it out, Rufus! This isn't funny!"

After a lingering moment spent banging against the sparkling metal, she came to the realization that he would not open the door, and she could do very little by banging on it. Odin would regain consciousness and whip her back inside again. This time even Rufus's willpower wouldn't save her from what the god of gods had in mind.

"I hate you, Rufus!" Wynnia huffed and kicked the door one last time. Then she lowered her head and sighed. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. "No, I don't."

She turned and began to sprint down the hall. The red carpet went in only one direction at first, so she followed it as fast as she could while her mind raced just as frantically. _Who can help me? _She thought. _Who among the gods would help me? _There was only one logical answer. _Silmeria! I have to find her! Where would they be keeping her?_

- - -

Rufus turned away from the door, ignoring the pleas of the girl on the other side. "I'm really sorry about this," he said aloud, though Wynnia could not hear him through the door. "I don't like to break promises."

At the left side of the room there was a statue of one of the gods holding out a dagger. It looked like it could be removed from the statue's hand with little effort.

_What are you doing, you foul vessel? _A voice echoed inside of him.

"Not anything complicated," Rufus answered as he reached for the weapon. Due to the statue's size, in his own hands it looked like a fat sword. He could feel Odin's presence putting pressure onto his spirit to be released and knew that he had to hurry. "Just taking you with me, that's all." Rather than wrestle with the statue, he cast a bolt of lightning with his hand to jar it loose. The stone collapsed and the large dagger fell to the ground with a clank.

_You believe that acquiring my knowledge gives you the right to use my magic? _

"Not so much that it would allow you to jump back into me," Rufus answered. He lifted up the dagger and held it against his chest. "Well, here it goes. Goodbye, universe."

It did occur to him as he stabbed himself that Odin was not objecting. The god did not even seem concerned. He thought that perhaps Odin believed he was bluffing, and in that case he did not know Rufus very well. As the blade of the weapon pierced through him, he was strangely relieved. At least all of this confusion was over and Alicia could chase him for once. Pretty cruel, but what could a guy in his position do?

As someone who had died once in the past, Rufus was easily fooled. The feeling of losing control of his body and sinking back into a deep sleep was what he remembered death being like, but this was not death.

"Idiot," Odin grumbled, pushing himself up from the floor. A gaping hole in his chest spilling blood onto the floor seemed to hinder him, but he was far from immobilized and even farther from dead. He sounded almost disappointed that his vessel and one of his own kind could be so indescribably dumb. "Immortality is wasted on you, fool. Did you believe you could kill a god?" Then he laughed. "But thank you for weakening yourself so much that I could regain control. I certainly will not allow it to happen again."

He opened the door and glanced down the hallway. The girl was gone. She ran fast. He could easily warp and follow after her, but there would be no fun in that. It would be far more fun, and beneficial to him actually, to teach her the game of cat and mouse.

- - -

"Recruit Silmeria," Freya mumbled to herself. It was highly degrading to be forced to strike a deal with your own servant, but would Silmeria join her cause any other way?

She warped through the halls of Valhalla which she knew every inch of in intimate detail. For centuries this had been her home, and now if the gods and Odin wanted her gone, they would not inherit this hall without a fight. If only Odin could see how he had invited his own destruction and take her back--but no! The proud Lady of the Vanir would not bend to his will yet again! Not after such an offense!

It was circular thought like this that kept Lady Freya in a constant state of furious anger as she infiltrated Valhalla. Getting to the sealed chamber where Silmeria's spirit was kept was no trouble. Not even a guard had been posted. Odin had grown old and lazy. "How unbecoming of the king of gods," Freya grumbled as she entered.

Freya floated into the vaulted chamber where the glow of Silmeria's lone crystal lit the walls in a surreal icy blue. The blonde-haired goddess who had long fallen out of Freya's favor laid waiting, her head bare within her crystal.

"I cannot believe that I must do this," Freya griped even as she raised her hand to awaken the goddess. "Awaken, Silmeria, youngest of the valkyrie trinity! Awaken to serve your masters!"

A second passed while Freya still held her hand in the air, frowning in dismay. "It is not working," she sighed, and began to inspect the crystal. "Silmeria's soul is too fragmented to be awakened at this time. It must be due to the fact her last incarnation was only partial." She floated around the crystal a moment more, fingers to her chin, pursing her lips and considering what could be done. "A reincarnation would solve the issue, but little help that would give us... hmm..."

She shook her head after the first idea that came to her. "No, I will not do that. I cannot deal with mortals, it is too insulting." Then she looked once again at Silmeria, lying there helpless. Despite their grievances, Freya still wished no serious harm towards the valkyrie. Silmeria was still a goddess, after all. She sighed and tried her best to swallow the pride that she had. "I suppose it cannot be helped."

- - -

Wynnia ran down several hallways, finding that they grew ever more complicated the far the she went. Some halls were dead-ends, some were protected by seals. Some were crawling with Aesir, a fact which she discovered a little too late.

"Halt!" cried a guardsman, one of the lackey Aesir that didn't seem to have a name and wore a uniform which consisted of tight pants, a funny hat, and a startling lack of chest coverage. "Someone catch her!"

Wynnia stopped as three more began to run after her and held her arms up defensively. "Don't you know who I am?" she asked them as they crowded around her, weapons drawn, glaring at her as if she were an escaped convict and not a victim of kidnapping.

"You are a mortal, and not welcome in Asgard!" the leader replied. "Now die, and return to your place!"

"Wait, wait!" Wynnia stammered. "I am a mortal, yes, but I am _Odin's_ mortal. He let me loose and told me to run as fast as I could so that he could have the sport of chasing me!"

One of the Aesir guards who happened to be female grimaced in dismay. "That _does_ sound like something he would do," she groaned.

Wynnia saw that this was working and jumped on it, though she was unaware of how close this was to the truth. "So... you'd better let me go, or you're all gonna get it from Lord Odin!" she insisted.

The leader placed his sword back into his scabbard with an angry _hmf, _signaling the others in his company to do the same. "Carry on," he growled, and turned his back on Wynnia.

Wynnia sighed in relief and kept running. The shoes that Odin had dressed her in had heels which she wasn't so used to running in, but at least they were sturdy as gods' clothes ought to be. If only she was blessed with god-like grace it would be no problem, but this was not the case. As she flew through the next door she tripped and, propelled by her momentum, rolled over twice when she hit the ground.

Covered in scratches and bruises, she stood up. "Ow," she whimpered and limped on her way again. Before she had gone very far, she felt something behind her--something that appeared in a flash of light. Then a pair of hands were around her neck, clutching her windpipe and squeezing.

"Now listen well, you harlot!" a cruel female voice said in a low tone into her ear. Wynnia would have liked to retort, but her throat was being crushed. She recognized the voice as Goddess Freya, the one goddess who she definitely did not want to run into. From the frying pan to the fire was her first thought. _Oh, this day is never going to go right!_

"You have no idea how long I've waited to have your throat between my fingers so that I could remove you from the mortal coil with my own bare hand. Your miniscule mortal brain cannot comprehend what you have done--what is is you have stolen from me! My only hope for this realm and for the entire universe laid in that young fool and you stole him from me, you dirty harlot thief!"

Wynnia coughed and sputtered. "O-Okay!" she barely managed to whimper out. "O... kay!"

Freya cocked a brow suspiciously and her grip loosened just enough to let her breath. "Have you something to say, mortal?"

Wynnia gasped for breath and collapsed onto her hands and knees. "Yes!" she coughed as she knelt respectfully to the goddess. "Lady Freya, please... you must save Rufus! Kill me if you wish, I cannot escape... but you hold Gungnir, so please! Use it to save Rufus, I no longer care what becomes of me if you can somehow save him."

Freya took a step towards her, standing proudly as she kneeled to the goddess, begging for her assistance. Her lips became a scornful frown and her eyebrows furrowed. "Get up!" she commanded, and kicked Wynnia. Her kick was not nearly as painful as she could have made it. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her nose up as Wynnia pulled herself off the ground. "It is that self-sacrificing mentality that cursed him with such an intolerable pain and began all of this. I commend you, Princess Alicia of Dipan, for sacrificing your spirit to save my valkyries when I could not. But for raising your sword to Odin and for torturing my young lord so, and stealing him from his home in Asgard--for those sins I will never forgive you! Let this understanding remain between us."

Wynnia slouched her shoulders, utterly defeated and wishing that this day would just be over with. "You really make absolutely no sense, Lady Freya," she said tiredly. "I mean... Rufus and I attacked Odin together, and Odin killed Rufus. If you direct your anger at anyone, shouldn't it be Odin? Or shouldn't you side with Odin and hate both me and Rufus? You can't choose two, that's like... I don't know. Cheating."

"You..." Freya huffed and whipped her head up once more. "You could ever understand. I oppose Odin now only because I serve him. It is my duty to save him from what he has become, and to prevent Lord Rufus from becoming what Odin has become."

"Then shouldn't you be mad... at yourself?" Wynnia ventured to say this, and immediately cursed her big mouth.

But to her surprise, Freya did not retaliate against this. "Aye, you speak truth," the goddess sighed. "My failing is to blame. Your stupidity in stealing Rufus was only the instrument which initiated the disasters which my inadequacy arranged."

"It isn't anyone's fault," Wynnia said, clasping her hands together pleadingly. "Please, if you gods could just think freely for a moment maybe you'd all see that you really do feel love and--"

"That's enough out of you," Freya cut her off. "I will allow you to live so long as I need you, but that does not mean that I must be subjected to your annoying prattle."

"You need me?" Wynnia answered. "What could you possibly need me for? I haven't got my sword, there's no real way I can oppose a god."

"I need you to wake Silmeria for me," Freya explained.

Wynnia gasped. "Silmeria?"

Freya made a disapproving face at her reaction and then went on. "Yes. After being transfered by Odin and then barely surviving the merge between the three valkyries, Silmeria's spirit is quite weak. I believe that you must hold part of that spirit still--that the two of you need each other despite being individual souls."

"Of course," Wynnia nodded. "I will help Silmeria, no matter what!"

"Tch," Freya sneered. "It is because a valkyrie's soul is meant to be reincarnated alone. Because Silmeria allowed a human to enter the body she was bound for, the two have become inseparable. Silmeria's soul is like a parasite upon your own, and yet your mortal soul is so pathetic that you became dependant on her presence."

"That isn't true at all," Wynnia argued. "Silmeria and I have a more, umm... _symbiotic_ relationship! She needs me, and I also need her!"

"Symbiosis or personal weakness, it makes no difference to me," Freya replied. "Just so long as you can awaken Silmeria."

Wynnia stood firmly, still shaking off the many blows she had suffered in the last few hours. "Where is she being kept?"

Freya reached out to place her hand on Wynnia's shoulder. "Just be quiet and I will take you there."

- - -

Wynnia fwas beginning to grow used to the strange rush of light and the feeling of weightlessness that had accompanied each of her magical trips through space after so many times, but the sudden shift in surroundings was still jarring. When she and Freya emerged in an entirely different area of Valhalla, she stumbled and tripped for lack of anything to hold onto.

The room was entirely empty. Wynnia stood and looked up at the ceiling which was constructed from silver stone, a great contrast to Valhalla's golden halls. "So where is Silmeria?" she asked, her voice echoing on the curved walls of the chamber.

She turned to find Freya looking about the place aghast. "She is not here!" she exclaimed, turning her head about frantically. "Could Odin have gotten to her first? "

"She's supposed to be right here?" Wynnia asked, growing alarmed herself. "Do you think that he transferred her?"

"That would at least mean that she is safe," Freya replied. "Quickly, we must be in danger if--" she went on, but fell silent as another presence appeared in the room. She and Wynnia stood on one side, and at the opposite end of the circular floor two figures took form, standing across the divide where the valkyrie's crystals once hung.

Wynnia shielded her eyes from the light as they materialized, a stark contrast to their dim surroundings. When they focused again, she saw the two people there. One was a very tall man who was quite familiar to her--Rufus, who was undoubtedly in the control of Odin once again. The female figure next to him was also well known to her, though she had only seen her friend in the flesh for a brief set of battles in Lezard's tower. "Silmeria!" she called out. Silmeria gazed back at her as if looking upon a stranger.

"How did you awaken her?" Freya asked aggressively, her voice booming against the walls of the dark chamber.

The feint light lingering at the center of the room illuminated Rufus's body as he stepped towards them. "I am the father of the Aesir, and you do not believe that I can revive one of my own?"

"She is fragmented, Odin," Freya said, growing in anger. "You could damage her permanently by awakening her in this state!"

Odin tilted his head--another disturbingly Rufus-like mannerism. "Oh, I don't know. What do you say, Silmeria?"

Silmeria stepped forward. Her hair sparkled golden even in the pale light. Under the rim of her visor, her eyes were pure blue, the same hue that Wynnia saw staring back at her each time she looked at herself in a mirror. The valkyrie raised her hand and pointed one finger at Wynnia. "I do not know who you are, but if you threaten Sir Rufus, then I will eliminate you!"

Wynnia gaped back at her in pure disbelief. "What?"

"That is not Sir Rufus," Freya answered, keeping her voice as level and cool as it was loud and demanding. "That is Lord Odin masquerading about in your friend's body, do not be fooled."

"I see," Silmeria answered coldly, looking at them with the narrow eyes that once looked out through Alicia. "The two of you are trying to confuse me. Well... I have had quite enough of you gods and your tricks!"

Wynnia stepped forward, holding her hands out to plead for understanding. "Please, Silmeria! Open your eyes!"

Silmeria moved to strafe protectively between herself and Rufus. "Stop where you are, Lady Frigg!"

"Frigg?" Wynnia gasped. "Who's Frigg? Just what are you talking about? Silmeria, you must remember me! I'm Alicia!"

Silmeria turned her eyes questioningly up to the one who she believed was Rufus. Odin lifted his hand and gave her a warm pat on the shoulder. "Go on now, dear," he said. "Tell them who you really are."

Silmeria waved her arm firmly in front of herself as if to dismiss Wynnia from her presence. "In my former life, I was known as Princess Alicia. How dare you try to steal those precious memories and my identity. And to take my beloved Rufus away from me, it is simply unforgivable."

"Now wait just a minute!" Wynnia said angrily, stomping right up to Silmeria. Meanwhile, Freya groaned in dismay and touched her hand to her forehead as if suffering from a headache. "I am princess Alicia and Rufus belongs to me! I am warning you, Silmeria!" She pointed her finger aggressively. "You'd better back off!"

"What a crass woman," Silmeria sighed, taking Rufus's arm just to make Wynnia more furious. "You cannot deceive me. I remember as clearly as yesterday how my beloved Rufus was slain, but revived as my einherjar. We embraced in the branches of Yggdrassil." She looked up at Odin. "Don't you remember that as well?"

"Oh, why yes, certainly," Odin faked, holding his arm around Silmeria's waist. "Now you, Frigg, go and find some other half-elf to suck the life out of!"

"Those are _my_ memories, dammit!" Wynnia shouted, waving her fingers accusingly at Silmeria, then turning her hand over to show her the ring that Rufus gave her. "I'm the one who revived Rufus after you were taken away by Lezard! Ooh, you are making me really mad, Silmeria!"

"Then I suggest you find a weapon," Silmeria responded and drew her sword. "I will defend my einherjar, and my love! I will take back that ring which you stole from me!"

"That is _it_!" Wynnia turned sharply to Freya. "Hey, you! Materialize me a sword or something!"

Freya bared her teeth in anger. "What do I look like? Your servant?"

"Oh, please don't fight, ladies," Odin said, laughing madly as he did so. "There is enough of this vessel to go around!"

"You're next, buddy!" Wynnia growled, pointing her finger at Odin. "We'll see how you like pain when I stick a sword up your--"

"Mortal girl," Freya addressed her. "I would suggest a retreat from this place."

"B-but we don't have Silmeria!" Wynnia whined. "She's all... _brainwashed_ or something!

Freya was vehement with her answer. "And you believe that fighting her will change that?"

"I know, but..." She balled her fists in frustration and looked pleadingly to Silmeria one more time. "Don't you remember Dylan, Silmeria? What about Brahms? What about all of your einherjar who have served me loyally for all of this time while I worked to bring Rufus and yourself back to me?"

"Enough of your nonsense," Silmeria replied. "If you choose the path of cowardice, then run!"

Turning to Freya, Wynnia lowered her head in defeat. "At least... take care of Rufus for me..."

"Hm," Odin teased, rubbing his chin. "Should I really let you run?" He held up his palm and began some sort of magic. "No, I think not. Come back to me, my fairest Lady of the Aesir!"

Freya grabbed Wynnia by the arm and pulled her back behind herself. She stepped between her and Odin's spell, summoning Gungnir to her hands. "I should slay you now," she growled, deflecting the magic spark with its blade. "You traitor, Odin!"

"Why do you hesitate?" Odin replied in a haughty tone, placing his hands on his hips. "If you care for me not, then strike me down."

Freya sneered and turned Gungnir's blade down towards the floor. "Come, mortal!" she hissed at Wynnia. "This battle cannot be fought today."

Wynnia began to feel weightless again. As the lights of Freya's magic enveloped her, she held her hand out to grasp the fading figures of Rufus and Silmeria. Soon they were gone, the ones that she loved, both changed beyond recognition. She then felt more alone and lost than she had ever before in her life. None of her friends were there to help her to bear the pain of it.

Freya's voice pounded in her ears as they warped. Her insensitive tone snapped Wynnia out of her grief. "You had best find a way to be useful," she said. "I must have a valkyrie, and you must fill the role."

"This is not my day," Wynnia sighed as she let herself be whisked to Freya's hall, where the others waited for a valkyrie to return.


	15. Goddess of Love

**Chapter 15**

**Goddess of Love**

(1)

Lenneth stood on the roof of the castle where, not too long ago by celestial ruling, her new associate Hrist Valkyrie had smashed a large gaping hole through it. Since then, the humans and einherjar who had taken up residence in the castle had done little to repair it other than throwing up a tarp whenever rain became troublesome. Otherwise, it was just a new skylight.

Hrist appeared beside her without making her presence known, startling Lenneth slightly but not enough for her to show it on her face. The valkyrie stood there like a shadow standing against the bright sky. Lenneth thought perhaps they looked the same from the ground with the sun at their backs."You appear restless," she said to Hrist.

Hrist gave a frown more intense than that which was the normal expression on her face. "Of course I am," she replied. "We are leaving our fates up to this fool mortal who has wrought ruin upon this world once in the past!"

"I must trust that souls can redeem themselves," Lenneth answered calmly as she looked out across the land of Dipan. "Even the two of us are not exempt from the cycle of rebirth."

"And is testing the mettle of a single soul worth handing our fates over to a known madman?" she asked, tilting her head up as if to challenge retort. When Lenneth said nothing and did not so much as move, she released a tense breath and continued speaking. "I simply want to return to my proper place," Hrist said, turning her back on the view in disinterest. Lenneth's eyes followed as Hrist raised her hand and glared intently at the back of it as if it was a parasite. "I wish to be made whole again, without these impurities..."

Lenneth did not understand what Hrist referred to when she began to mumble and rant about the other valkyries, a girl named Alicia, and her former self... and she did not care to. They would return to Asgard, Lenneth would ask Freya what the true nature of this situation was, and if she needed to, then she would return to sleep.

(2)

It was rare that Ewald came out to see the light of day when there were other more suitable things for him to do with his talents. His place was in the laboratory making things, preparing things, learning new spells, etc. However, in the absence of Wynnia, somebody else had to be the figurehead and Phyress seemed to think that since he was the only non-einherjar left around, that it should be him. So here he was in the courtyard outside of Dipan castle going over provisions and munitions for their assault on Asgard--which he thought was a terrible idea, by the way.

As the einherjar busied themselves around him, he turned his head to look up at the sun and estimate what time it was. Still not noon at least. They were making good time. His eyes then saw the statuesque outlines of Lenneth and Hrist standing against the sky. "I would like to be an einherjar," he sighed, admiring their forms from below.

A smack on the head from an unstrung bow tore him away from the fascinating view. "You will be if you don't pay attention!" Sha-Kon chided him. His partner in alchemy seemed to have less trouble switching gears from scientist to warrior. She spent the morning fletching arrows and fitting them with magic-imbued tips that might stand more of a chance against the gods than simple stone or metal. "I was wondering," she continued as Ewald rubbed his head. She held back her strength enough to avoid giving him a bruise, but it still stung. She was completely unconcerned with that, however. "We were able to create a god's vessel by way of substitution, do you think that there may be some way of replicating the Angel Slayer in the same manner? If we could do so, then we could arm several of the swordsman with them, and fighting the gods would be a great deal simpler."

"Undoubtedly simpler," Ewald agreed. He reached for the scabbard at his side, one lent to him by the einherjar Sylphide. Though the correct size, its plainness was an insult to the beauty of the blade. He fumbled over the handle and finally drew the sword. Its surface had the faintest pearl luster when it was held up to the sun. "But... it isn't as if we can break this sword down and grow more... it isn't tissue."

Sha-kon sighed in disappointment. "I suppose not."

"Regardless, you make a strong point that someone besides myself should us it," he went on. As he placed the sword back into the compartment at his side, he looked up and nodded at the einherjar gathered there. "All of you continue your work. I'll be back momentarily."

Ewald left the courtyard where the soldiers tinkered and gathered, gearing up the war machine. Leave them all to do what they do, that is what he thought was best.

(3)

Ewald ascended up several stairways inside the castle until he came to the area on the uppermost floor where the ceiling had crumbled in. The debris was cleared and a few of the einherjar had turned this area into an indoor garden for more delicate plants. The water that leaked inside when it rained was good for the plants, but made the place smell of mildew. Trying his best not to breathe it in, he stepped below the opening to the roof and looked up.

"Lady Valkyrie, if I could have just a sparse moment of your valuable time?" he said, feeling his throat constrict in anxiety.

"_You_ speak to him," he heard Hrist's reply, full of disgust.

Lenneth must have agreed silently, because a second later she leapt through the opening back into the castle without warning. The sun lighting her figure from behind, her robes and long silver hair flying as she floated down to him, she definitely looked the part of a creature from heaven, even if her body was now of mortal design.

"Say what you will," she stated plainly without wasting time on a greeting or any other form of small talk.

Ewald held the Angel Slayer sword horizontally with both hands, taking care not to cut himself or Lenneth--for it could no doubt injure her as well--and presented it to her. "I-I would like you to have this," he said. "It would be most useful in your hands."

Lenneth's chin lifted, allowing the light to reach her eyes which were normally cast in a shadow by the brim of her helmet's visor. "Is this not the sword which your lost friend bequeathed to you?"

"I just picked it up," Ewald explained. "Wynnia would laugh if she saw me holding it!"

"Undoubtedly," Lenneth agreed. "Your stance is pitiful. You hold the sword as if you can barely stand its weight."

Ewald frowned and turned his eyes away in shame. "I am simply not built for combat, I am a sorcerer."

Lenneth's hand reached for the blade. For a moment Ewald thought that their hands might touch when she made to grasp the hilt. Unfortunately for him, the moment was stolen away when a spark of energy like a tiny static charge popped and repelled Lenneth's hand. She frowned. "Apparently the sword's magic does not care that this is a makeshift body," she said, seemingly unharmed. Ewald released a sigh of relief to this at least. "Perhaps it senses my intentions... that I serve the gods."

"It matters not to me if you serve the gods, if that comes as any consolation," Ewald said timidly.

Lenneth surprised him by making an expression that was something close to a smile. "It does," she answered. "I hope that the gods can return to the old ways--their existence to protect the world from its destruction and to foster life on Midgard rather than to stifle it."

"I'm not sure," Ewald sighed. "Humans find it hard to let grudges go. I suppose that for the gods, who do not have even the benefit of new generations, it will be even harder."

"Still, it pleases me to know that some humans still have a rational understanding of the gods rather than mistrust or blind loyalty. Both are equally destructive."

"Oh, I agree!" Ewald answered, letting the excitement that he was actually having a conversation with Lenneth Valkyrie slip into his voice. He cleared his throat. "I-I suppose I'll just give this sword to an einherjar then," he said, ending the discussion. He turned to leave, certain that Lenneth would not tolerate his presence for very much longer and sure that he would rather leave early than outstay his welcome.

He began to walk off into the castle, but as soon as he stepped into the shadow beyond the sun that poured in through the ceiling, Lenneth's voice stopped him. "What if I gave you instruction?"

Ewald slowly turned, not sure what to believe he had heard. "You would teach me?" he asked. "I'm utterly hopeless with a sword, I assure you."

"I train each of my einherjar before sending them to Asgard," she replied. "I am certain that I can teach one mage how to use a sword... or at least how to hold it correctly, considering that our time is very short. Is there a suitable place?"

"Uh.. yes," Ewald replied, trying to hide his emotions. "I know of one..."

(4)

He led Lenneth out to the garden at the center of the castle where Wynnia often practiced her own swordsmanship. The sun was reaching high noon and shone into the courtyard over the high walls.

"This was Wynnia's spot," Ewald said with a touch of sadness in his voice as he entered, leading Lenneth. "I'd sometimes study here while she worked away with her sword."

"I see," Lenneth muttered as her eyes scanned the area. "Do you care for this Wynnia, then?"

Ewald shifted uncomfortably and pretended to clean his glasses as an excuse to look away. "I suppose when I was younger I had feelings for her," he said. "But her tenacity in her own goals never left any room for other people. I felt the same way about my research, and so I believe the two of us came to that sort of understanding without speaking any words."

"You can still feel strongly for a comrade without wanting her in a romantic fashion," Lenneth answered.

"I guess my life wouldn't be the same without her," he sighed, not sure if that would be a bad thing. "I am destined to be creepy uncle Ewald when she eventually bears children."

"I will see that she is returned to the human world," Lenneth said. "Her life I cannot guarantee, but freedom is something that can be taken from no one."

"Yes," Ewald sighed and hung his head. "I know all too well that a soul is not something one can own."

Lenneth did not pause to contemplate the deeper meaning of his words. "Please remove your outer clothing."

"W-what?" Ewald stammered and took a step back.

"Your cloak and the outer robe underneath are unnecessary and will hinder you in combat."

"I don't know if they're _unnecessary_," Ewald mumbled. "I think they make me look more ominous if nothing else."

Lenneth frowned in disapproval. "If you will not obey my commands, then you are unfit to be my pupil!" she announced rather aggressively.

Ewald jumped and quickly began to remove the articles of clothing she deemed inappropriate for combat. "S-sorry!" he stammered as he hopped out of his robe. "I promise I shall not speak back to you again! I am entirely at your command, Lady Valkyrie!"

Lenneth was not pleased until he stood wearing only his tunic, pants, gloves, and boots. He was so accustomed to wearing the extra layers that he felt smaller without them. Underneath he was scrawny from lack of exercise. "Now pick up the belt you dropped and equip your sword again. You must be able to draw it with ease." Ewald began to do this, strapping the belt around his waist. "That is the wrong side," Lenneth chided him before he had even laced the buckle. "Your strongest hand is the right. Wear the sword on your left and give your blade the freedom to slide away from its sheath."

"Oh, yes I see," Ewald grumbled in embarrassment. "That's so logical, why didn't I think of it?"

Lenneth ignored what he was saying and moved on. "Your speed and steadiness will only increase as you practice over time. I am a goddess, yet I am not a performer of miracles."

Ewald could barely keep the sword steady when he held it in two hands, and when he held it with only one, his arm began to ache immediately. "I understand," he answered. "Thank you for your patience."

"That is also incorrect," Lenneth said with a frown, seeing the blade of the sword wobble in the air. She took a step towards him, and being careful not to touch the weapon, she wrapped Ewald's hands around it. "Do what achieves the best results in a consistent manner," she explained. "Swinging your sword like a club is not effective, but it is better than doing nothing at all."

"I see," Ewald nodded, distracted only for a brief second as Lenneth placed her hands on his.

Lenneth stepped away and stood face to face with him. "Stand with your feet apart," she instructed. "Distributing the weight of your body makes it more difficult for you to be knocked down."

"Ah, that's true!" Ewald answered, eyes suddenly alive with excitement. "I never knew there was science involved with fighting. I thought that people were just strong or weak."

"You may make a fair swordsman if you train diligently," Lenneth commended him as she drew her own sword. "For now your goal is to keep yourself from getting hit. Now show me what you'll do if I come at you like this--"

Lenneth moved at him with such speed that he was sure that this all had been a farce and that she truly meant to kill him. He shouted and raised the sword in front of himself, pressing his eyes shut. Her blade stopped too short of nicking his neck for his comfort. Sweat beaded on his brow as he opened his eyes again.

Lenneth frowned, still holding her sword. "If you fear the blade, you will be useless in battle," she scolded him.

"I was always terrible at games when Wynnia and I were children," he admitted, slumping and gasping for breath. "She told me not to be afraid of the ball."

"Yes, you cannot catch the ball if you are cowering in fear," Lenneth said, relaxing back into her casual standing position. "However... your legs at least responded in a useful manner. You pulled your leg behind you and placed your weight on it to absorb the blow. Now if you can manage to knock the blade aside, you'll have made a great deal of progress."

Ewald looked at his feet and felt somewhat encouraged. "How do I do that?" he asked her.

"Start by swinging your blade in a circular motion," she explained. "This way, though you lack the strength to deflect a blow or the skill to parry it, your opponent's blade will at least be led away from your vital areas. Your sword's cross guard is there to protect your hands in this situation."

"Like this?" he said and waved the sword.

"Yes, that's the motion," Lenneth answered. "But you'll need to put your strength in to it. Exhale and focus your strength. It sometimes helps to shout. This helps you to focus your energy, and it also serves to confuse the opponent."

"Do I really need to shout?" Ewald mumbled. "It's quite embarrassing."

Lenneth scowled in disapproval. "You shouted loud enough when I came at you. This time shout with bravery rather than squealing in terror."

"Of course, yes, I am sorry," Ewald agreed, taking deep breaths and steadying his hands in preparation. He was thankful that Lenneth allowed him to keep his gloves. His palms were so sweaty that the blade would no doubt slip out of his hands otherwise. "I am ready, please try me again."

"Keep your eyes open, now," Lenneth instructed, then made another attack on Ewald.

This time Ewald stepped forward, waving the blade. He let out a soft "ha!" as he did so, not quite into the idea of yelling outright just yet. His blade connected with Lenneth's, but failed to guide it off course. He found her blade at his chest this time.

"Better by far," Lenneth congratulated him despite what he perceived as a grand failure. "Now if we do this one hundred times, perhaps you'll be able to deflect an attack from this angle."

"One hundred?" Ewald whimpered. His arms were already tired.

"And that is only the most basic frontal attack!" Lenneth sharply responded.

Ewald groaned at the thought of the physical punishment he would endure over the next several hours, but could never completely shake the feeling of awe that became stronger the longer he stayed in Lenneth's presence. Her lessons were constructed with impeccable logic. With each failure, he gradually grew more confident. It became an experiment in which theories were formed and tested, then proven by hundreds of practices.

By the end of his first lesson, he only knew the most basic movements that even a child could perform, and even these he was still not strong enough to use effectively. As he laid in bed that night, body aching and sore, the most rewarding aspect of today's training was not how he had learned to stand or deflected a sword, but that he had learned to keep his eyes open as she came at him with her weapon, and that he was able to shout the way that Wynnia did when she thrust her sword.

(5)

Lenneth found that her body did need sleep. It also needed food and felt physical exhaustion rather than simply the waning of her soul when battles grew long. Even the training session with Ewald left her feeling tired.

The einherjar offered her Wynnia's bed, which Lenneth felt was generous of them. They often insisted that they were Silmeria's einherjar and not Hrist's or her own--and most definitely not Odin's--but even so they seemed to feel no animosity towards Lenneth. In fact, they were quite welcoming and hospitable, offering her food and clothing as well as a bed to sleep in. It was almost as if they were helping Ewald apologize for accidentally destroying her divine body.

She slept in a night gown, allowing her armor to dematerialize while she slept. The valkyrie armor was strangely uncomfortable, though she had been able to call it into being of her own free will. She supposed that for humans armor was normally heavy, hot, and difficult to move around in. Having mortal flesh most definitely allowed her to realize how much she took her celestial form for granted. Her sleep was as sound as death, which was one aspect of mortality she did appreciate.

The next morning, the einherjar planned to move out just after a large breakfast. Lenneth ate light, fearing she may be sluggish on her feet otherwise. After a piece of fruit and slice of bread, she left the hall where the einherjar ate en masse. Ewald had not been there. She had not seen him all morning.

She followed directions from one named Chrystie to the mage's bedchamber. After no response to her knock, she slowly opened the door, expecting to find him asleep. Instead the room was empty except for his belongings. Books filled an entire wall of shelving, held in place here and there by an odd knick-knack that served as a book end. She wondered how long he had lived here and if he had family in another part of the world. Aside from Wynnia whom Lenneth had not been given the chance to meet, Ewald was the only living mortal here. The others were freed einherjar, people whose souls were vibrant with the flame of mortality but who were still dead.

His absence from the room worried her, though she found herself wondering why she should worry over the human mage. He was not particularly fit for the role of einherjar, and her original mission specifically was to kill him, not save him. It was difficult for her to explain even to herself, but she felt that somehow he was her responsibility--that whatever calamity his former self had caused, she must prevent from happening again.

She looked through the window in Ewald's room, one that had been covered by a curtain thick enough to block out all light when it was pulled shut. It looked out onto the courtyard they had trained in the previous day. Though she had come to the window simply to see how far the sun had risen in the sky, she found Ewald right away. His dark-robed figure stood at the center of the courtyard. Was he practicing, she wondered. If so, she was impressed. He was taking this quite seriously, as one should.

(6)

Lenneth was in no hurry to the courtyard, but reached the area in very little time. When she arrived, Ewald still stood motionlessly at the center of the small garden. To see him simply standing there made her wary. She stopped after stepping only a few paces into the courtyard.

He shifted sluggishly, only noticing her presence after the third or fourth step she took. He raised his head from the position it held staring intently at the ground, then slowly turned to meet eyes with her. "Lady Valkyrie," he said, sounding weak and tired.

Lenneth's face remained expressionless as she attempted to discern the source of his strange behavior. "Sir Ewald," she answered. "As there are two valkyries present, I would allow you the use of my true name--Lenneth."

"I shouldn't," Ewald answered, then turned away from her again. "I think that I should stay behind when you and the others make for Asgard."

"Have you turned into a coward overnight?" Lenneth spat in response. "What is this nonsense?"

"I..." Ewald began softly. He took a few slow, heavy steps forward, walking away from Lenneth. "When those memories first came to me, it was like watching a play unfold. I saw a man who looked something like me, and I knew that he was me to some extent... like another universe's me... but through all of the time since then, it never completely sank in that I am that soul. That I did those things."

"I do not hold you accountable for the sins committed by your former self," she said. "I too have been reincarnated many times, and I was not innocent in each of them."

"But it's not _that_," Ewald said, obviously going to great lengths to keep his emotions in check. "When I went to sleep last night, I felt wonderful. For the first time in my life I felt confident and strong--not only because you showed me that I was not entirely hopeless with a sword, but because I was with you, and you allowed me to be in your presence. Because you touched my hand and said kind words to me even as you berated me for my lack of skill..."

"Your strength is growing," Lenneth replied. "You should feel elated, that is natural."

Ewald paused, and for a moment Lenneth wondered if he would tell her any more. "Then I slept," he said in a wavering voice, "and that changed. When those memories came again, I began to see the events unfold through Lezard's eyes. What's more, I began to feel the things that he felt. I am even beginning to sympathize with this person." She watched him shudder at the thought.

"This scares you?" she asked.

"Yes." Ewald turned and faced her, keeping his eyes turned down. He seemed both ashamed and meek, unlike his usual self. "I can listen to everyone say that I am not the same person--that I have been given a new chance... but the fact remains that one very important thing has been carried over from that existence to my own. A very crucial thing--the very reason why Lezard caused such destruction."

Lenneth only knew of Lezard what he and Hrist had told him. His own memories were distant, or they had been up until now, and Hrist's opinion of this individual known as Lezard was so extreme that she had to try very hard at times to keep herself from killing Ewald on the spot. "What is it?" she asked.

"I love you," he answered. "Though I have never met you, your presence seems familiar. When you came at me as we trained, it awakened a memory of our old battles. I have been utterly obsessed with you since the moment I laid eyes upon you. At first I believed it was simply your beauty. You are my type, that's easy enough to say. But even that cannot explain the depths of this passion that is growing in my heart right now."

When she said nothing, he looked up for a moment and then quickly turned his eyes away again. "Perhaps if I had never seen you, that part of me would be content to rest underneath my consciousness, and I could live out myriad incarnations never fully understanding what it is that I can never grasp... punishment suiting enough for Lezard, who sent the world to ruin merely for that satisfaction. And the more I enjoy your presence, the more I will become that man again."

"So this is why you are telling me to go on without you?" Lenneth summed up, unaffected by his confession of love. "You have shown bravery. You must carry on, or forever live in this shadow. This nemesis will never be defeated so long as you shelter him in your own soul!"

He dropped to his knees, not kneeling gracefully but rather allowing himself to fall. The sword slid from its holster--not properly fastened in place Lenneth thought with chagrin. He hung his head, allowing his glasses to slide forward until they slipped from his nose and clattered against the stone along with the silver blade. He made no effort to pick them up. "I feel as if my soul is being twisted apart," he choked, working very hard to maintain his last ounce of dignity. "Is this the torment that Wynnia endured each day, as I stood by and called her a lunatic? Was it this lack of identity?"

"Stand up," Lenneth demanded. "I cannot believe that this sudden ailment of the spirit has completely overtaken your rational mind overnight!"

"I'm not as strong as you or Wynnia," he responded, smiling but making no attempt to stand.

Lenneth debated with herself inwardly as she silently watched Ewald crumble. Perhaps she was being too insensitive towards someone whose very soul was in grave danger. Maybe this affliction was not something a simple mortal man could conquer on his own.

"Maybe it's best if you kill me," Ewald mumbled. "Hrist would be glad to do it--I'm sure a lot of people would be."

Lenneth frowned and began to scold him. "Now you are doing nothing but weeping over your own misfortune--a fate that has not even been proven yet, I remind you."

Still, there was a tone of sympathy in her voice that coaxed Ewald to look up. She stepped towards him and extended her hand. He looked at it as if he'd never seen the gesture before. "Lady Valkyrie?"

"It will cause less confusion if you address me as Lenneth Valkyrie," she said, holding her hand out rigidly. "Tell me, if I were to love you, would you then have any fear of impending insanity?"

Ewald stared back at her wide-eyed. She wondered how poor his sight was without his glasses. "W-hat do you mean?" he asked breathlessly. "I don't understand."

Lenneth still held her hand in a static position in front of Ewald's face, her expression set in stone somewhere in the vast territory between sympathy and a teacher's sternness. "If Lenneth is the reason that Lezard goes to such lengths, consuming the world in the process, then would it not solve the problem entirely Lenneth were to love Lezard--or you, the person who fears becoming Lezard. You needn't hurt anyone now."

Ewald took a moment to understand what she was saying, then a smile of disbelief broke the pathetic frown on his face. "Lady Lenneth," he said with a nervous half-chuckle. "You can't simply say you're going to love someone--it doesn't work that way."

"Why not?" Lenneth responded. "Humans are wed for less suitable reasons every day."

"Yes, but..." Ewald's face began to flush in embarrassment which Lenneth thought was a great improvement over the pale sickly look he had just a moment ago. "My Lady, that isn't Love persay--a reason such as that would be mere politics."

"You would not take my love or force it from me even when offered," Lenneth surmised, ending with the very faintest hint of a smile. "I believe you never will. Even as this weakness threatens to consume you, there is a tremendous strength growing within you. Will you believe in it?"

Ewald gazed at Lenneth's hand, stuck in uncertainty for a moment more. Finally, he lifted his glasses from the ground and allowed her to help him to his feet. Placing the glassed properly onto his face, he smiled. "Very well. If you believe that I can do it, then I must try."

Lenneth nodded and gave his hand a shake to seal the agreement before letting him go. "If you ever speak of such nonsense again I _will_ kill you, if only because it's incessantly annoying."

"My apologies," Ewald sighed. He reached into his cloak. "However, I do have some insurance. A man of science cannot rely on faith alone, after all."

Lenneth watched him skeptically as he removed a vial. "What is that?"

"Rufus, whom you had the fortune of just missing I might add, sent a few of the einherjar on a quest to retrieve this vial of potion which erases one's memory, effectively rendering a person reborn--without all the bother of dying and growing into an adult again. Then, after Phyress went to some lengths to attain it, he decided against drinking it after all. It's been an agonizing drama--especially for anyone forced to watch it all." Ewald made a sour face as he explained all of this. "Nevermind how it got here. Being the collector that I am, I couldn't allow them to simply throw away such a rare potion, so I have kept it ever since."

"Were you considering drinking it yourself before I appeared?" Lenneth asked.

"A little," Ewald answered, breaking eye contact in shame. "But now I intend to only drink it if I become... well, you know... unmanageable."

Lenneth turned to leave, no longer willing to submit herself to this conversation. "So it's how long I can manage you, is it? If your life depends on my patience, then you are killing yourself a bit more with each word."

Ewald grinned brightly and began to follow her. "As long as we understand each other!"

Lenneth whipped around and frowned menacingly. "Don't leave _that_ there."

He gave her a blank stare. "What?"

"The _sword_, you fool!"

"Oh!" It came to him all at once that he was leaving the precious Angel Slayer behind on the ground, and went to fetch it. "Ha ha," he laughed awkwardly. "I hadn't even noticed I'd dropped it!"

Lenneth placed her palm over her face in dismay momentarily, then dismissed her emotions. She could not prevent them from leaking out again as she mumbled "This is not my task," under hear breath as she left the courtyard, Ewald following along excitedly at her heels.


End file.
